


Blinded

by vwritesaus



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Romance, SEIJOU FEELS, Sexual Humour, Slow Burn, Swearing, Underage Drinking, because it's not iwaoi without angst lol, because teenage boys, give it up for disorganised tags, seijou shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-06 17:40:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17349653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vwritesaus/pseuds/vwritesaus
Summary: In a world where soulmates see in colour, Iwaizumi Hajime can only see in black, white and grey. He sees that as a good thing, since he only wants to be able to see colour because of one person.His best friend. Oikawa Tooru. Because there could be no one else.Right?





	Blinded

**Author's Note:**

> I'll keep this short but huzzah, welcome to the first fic on this account and, lo behold, it's yet another soulmate au ft. mutual pining iwaoi :'D how original of me, but I couldn't resist lol
> 
> A huge shoutout and thank you to [tenowls](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenowls) for editing this monster <3 Check her out on her [Tumblr](https://tenowls.tumblr.com) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/tenowls) for quality hq!! content!!!!
> 
> Hope you enjoy~

Iwaizumi had been told as a child to never view the world in black and white. When considering a situation, he was to allow for some colour to trickle through his decision-making process.

                At the time, however, he had thought those people to be stupid for telling him such a thing, for how else could he see the world _other_ than in black and white? Sure, Iwaizumi saw some grey every now and then, but that was beside the point. He had never seen colour in his life.

                Since he had been about four years old, he had heard his family and friends telling him how beautiful colours were, such as how vibrant the colour red was, or how orange the sky looked at sunset, or how green the grass was in their gardens. Iwaizumi had often scowled at them, particularly as a child, feeling incredibly jealous. He had whined about how unfair it all was. Why couldn’t _he_ see the colours of the world? Why couldn’t he see how the robins on their telephone line were brown? Why couldn’t he see that their pet cat was ginger?

                Then he had heard that fateful word. Iwaizumi had been five years old when he heard it the first time. His parents had been bidding each other farewell for the day, and Iwaizumi’s brain had whirled with confusion at this new and strange word. _Soulmate._

                Looking back, the conversation had been incredibly sappy, both of his parents saying how they loved each other, and how grateful they were to have someone as wonderful as them for their soulmate. Having peered out from the doorway to the living room, Iwaizumi had felt an odd sensation in his stomach at the word. He hadn’t asked his parents why he had felt that way, but the feeling had remained for the rest of the night.

                The next morning, the feeling had disappeared. It didn’t make another appearance until a year later, on the afternoon after his sixth birthday. When he had nearly hit a passing boy with his baseball, Iwaizumi had tried to stop the boy from crying—as he had been so frightened and had hurt himself when he had fallen backwards trying to avoid the ball—only to pause when, after rubbing the boy’s back to calm him down, the feeling had erupted in his stomach, stronger than the last time. Iwaizumi had been so confused that he hadn’t known what to do other than help the boy to his feet and ask bashfully if he wanted to play with him.

                The two had played all afternoon, and Iwaizumi hadn’t ever been as happy as he had been that day. He had made a friend, even though he was a bit stupid. Couldn’t bat a baseball to save himself. The feeling, once again, hadn’t vanished until the following morning. He had seen the boy again the next day, walking with his mother. At the sight of Iwaizumi, he had let go of his mother’s hand and, instead, went to hug his friend, the first cry of what would be his nickname for life piercing the air.

                ‘Iwa-chan!’

                The feeling had returned, and Iwaizumi had vowed to himself that he would stay friends with this boy, so he could have that feeling in his gut again and again.

                But looking at his friend Oikawa now, a good ten years later, the feeling hadn’t returned. Not once. It puzzled him greatly, but there was nothing he could do about it. But untrue to his vow, Iwaizumi had remained friends with Oikawa this entire time despite the lack of feeling in his stomach.

                The pair were sitting in Oikawa’s classroom, chewing on noodles and groaning about their homework. Or unless you were Oikawa, groaning about the volleyball tournament that was coming up.

                ‘I can’t believe the captain won’t let us work together!’ he whined, glowering over his noodles at Iwaizumi. ‘Doesn’t he realise that we’re, like, an amazing duo or something? We can totally go and win the damn thing if he just realised that _we’re a secret weapon!_ ’

                Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. ‘You do realise we haven’t actually _shown_ him or the rest of the team our techniques and stuff together, right?’

                ‘That’s because he won’t even give us a chance to show them!’ Oikawa countered. He sighed deeply, a dramatic move on his behalf, and leant across their tables—which they had joined to make a bigger one—his fingers touching Iwaizumi’s crossed arms. His forehead pressed itself against the wooden surface, landing with a soft thud. ‘This sucks. It sucks, Iwa-chan.’

                The sensation of Oikawa’s fingertips against his skin caused Iwaizumi’s mind to wander back to that fateful day when they first met. Currently, however, he did not feel the same bounding feeling from that moment. Huffing through his nose, he turned back to his noodles.

                His meeting with Oikawa and that day hearing his parents talk in the hallway were part of the few memories Iwaizumi recalled from his childhood. But the one thing that stayed ingrained in his mind was that word and the stirring in his gut that came along with it.

                Soulmate.

                The older he got, the more Iwaizumi wanted to feel it again, and the more he wanted to see colour, so he could know what it was truly like to have found a soulmate. The whole topic in itself was still mystifying in its own right, and especially considering he was still rather young. No matter who explained the wonders of the colourful world and the amazing feeling of having found their soulmate, Iwaizumi just couldn’t relate.

                It irritated him beyond belief, especially since there was the possibility that Oikawa was his soulmate. But they had known each other for ten years… Surely they both would have seen colour by now? Surely they would have realised by this point that they were the only ones for each other?

                ‘Iwa-chan… you’re glaring at me. What have I done?’

                Iwaizumi stared at Oikawa, blinking at him as his mind caught up with the present. He had lifted his head from its place on the table, dark eyes wide with apprehension and bottom lip between his teeth.

                ‘Sorry… I was just thinking.’

                ‘About?’

                Raising an eyebrow, Iwaizumi pinched Oikawa’s outstretched arm—who squealed at the action—and muttered, ‘None of your business. So nosy.’

                ‘You’re so mean, Iwa-chan!’ Oikawa cried, rubbing his arm and pouting heavily. ‘Here I am, worried about you, and you hurt me!’

                ‘You’re worried about yourself, Oikawa,’ Iwaizumi laughed, then made his voice go higher in pitch as he put his hand over his chest, ‘“You’re glaring at me, what have I done?”’

                ‘I do not sound like that you, you bully!’

                ‘Who’s a bully?’

                Glancing up, Iwaizumi saw their friends, Hanamaki and Matsukawa, walking into the room towards them. They pulled another two tables towards theirs, making a quadrant, and sat down next to Oikawa and Iwaizumi respectively. Matsukawa’s question was answered as Oikawa pointed an offended finger at his childhood friend.

                ‘Now, now, Iwaizumi,’ Hanamaki teased. ‘That’s not very nice. Bullies aren’t allowed here.’

                Smirking, Iwaizumi leant in close and whispered, ‘Neither are people who stick their noses in other people’s business.’

                Hanamaki returned the smirk, fiercer and eyes glinting. ‘Good thing we’re not those people, eh?’

                ‘Yeah, good thing.’

                ‘God, you guys give me a headache,’ Oikawa grumbled as Hanamaki and Iwaizumi burst out laughing at the same time.

                Oikawa and Iwaizumi had become friends with Hanamaki and Matsukawa at the start of that year. They had met in the gymnasium trying out for Seijou’s volleyball team and had become friendly over, of all things, a misunderstanding.

                Oikawa had nearly gotten smacked in the head by an incoming, soaring volleyball and Iwaizumi, who had seen the whole thing, had shouted to him, ‘Oi, Shittykawa, you’re an idiot!’ Unfortunately, Matsukawa, who had been standing nearby, had turned towards Iwaizumi on the verge of tears with a hand over his heart. ‘What did I do?’ he had asked wretchedly, and Iwaizumi had to awkwardly explain that no, he was talking about _that_ kawa, pointing to a shrieking, overdramatic Oikawa in the distance.

                It was decided from then on that Oikawa was Shittykawa and Matsukawa was Mattsun to avoid any further accidental insulting. It was amazing how that was the thing that brought them close together. Now the four couldn’t be seen without one another, joking and laughing as they walked down the school corridors to their classes or on the court during practice.

                ‘Hey, you guys ready for practice today?’ Hanamaki queried around a mouthful of food.

                ‘Ugh, no!’ Oikawa groaned. ‘I hate our captain! He’s such a jerk!’

                ‘Agreed,’ Matsukawa grumbled, frowning at the table. ‘Hopefully he’s in less of a jerky mood today.’

                ‘One can only dream,’ Iwaizumi mumbled under his breath, knowing that their captain would, in fact, be in a jerky mood regardless if he was in a foul mood or a happy one.

                The rest of lunch went by rather quickly, and the _ding dong ding_ of the bell was the only thing that got Iwaizumi, Hanamaki and Matsukawa out of Oikawa’s classroom. They farewelled each other and promised to see one another at practice that afternoon.

 

* * *

 

There were very few things in life that frightened Iwaizumi. Even then, those fears were only mild, such as being caught in the middle of a thunderstorm instead of being at home, or facing the wrath of his teachers for not turning in some homework or assessment on time. But there definitely was something that could make his heart stop and his world slow down around him. Maybe he was being irrational, but Iwaizumi was never irrational.

                At least, not when it came to Oikawa.

                A loud thud and Oikawa’s cry filled the gymnasium. Starting at him in horror, Iwaizumi dropped the volleyball he had been holding and dashed to his fallen friend. The rest of the team looked over in confusion, having not noticed exactly what had happened straightaway. When they saw Oikawa on the floor and Iwaizumi diving onto his knees beside him, the captain yelled at his juniors to get the coach before running over himself.

                Iwaizumi was torn. Oikawa’s face was contorted in pain; his fingers were wrapped around his knee, the knuckles of his hands white as he gripped it tightly.

                This didn’t look good.

                ‘What happened?’ the captain asked behind Iwaizumi. ‘What did you do?’

                _I wanna ask him the same thing,_ Iwaizumi thought, glaring lightly at Oikawa. _This is what happens when you push yourself too hard!_ He wanted to say those words aloud, to shake some sense into him so he could use his brain for the first time in his life. Nothing had changed since junior high, it seemed, and clearly no amount of reprimanding on Iwaizumi’s behalf had stayed in Oikawa’s head.

                But now wasn’t the time for that. Sighing deeply, Iwaizumi’s hand landed in between Oikawa’s shoulder blades, rubbing the spot gently. When he blinked, he was suddenly gazing at five-year-old Oikawa.

                At the captain’s question, Oikawa swallowed heavily and peered up at him sheepishly.

                ‘I… I’m not entirely sure,’ he answered softly, voice embedded with a kind of surprise, as if he couldn’t believe what he was saying himself. ‘I was practicing jump serving when my knee started hurting. Must have landed on it funny or something… Then when I went to do another one, it gave way…’

                Iwaizumi gaped at him, and his former thoughts of this not being the time to scold Oikawa went out the gymnasium doors as he cried, ‘You continued to practice even though you’re in pain? Are you fucking crazy?’

                Oikawa visibly winced at Iwaizumi’s voice and didn’t say anything, choosing instead to break eye contact. They heard the captain sigh in irritation, and Iwaizumi was in two minds to turn around and land a swift punch on the guy’s jaw. Who was he to be irritated when Oikawa was in pain? Yes, he was an idiot for not taking care of himself, but that didn’t mean he deserved to have people being _annoyed_ at him. However, Iwaizumi knew he would get himself kicked off the team if he so much as touched the guy, so he opted for a hard-core glower instead.

                Their moment was interrupted by the arrival of the coach, Hanamaki, and Matsukawa, who had been outside having a discussion. The coach gave Oikawa a once over, then said aloud that he needed to be taken to the infirmary. Oikawa’s face paled and he stared, wide-eyed, at Iwaizumi. _No,_ his eyes screamed at him. _It can’t be that bad! Can’t it?_

                _Of course it is!_ Iwaizumi frowned as he stood up. _Get up already, or do you need me to help you?_

                Darting his tongue over his lips, Oikawa held out his hands for Iwaizumi to take, submitting to the fact that he needed help. Iwaizumi couldn’t resist him, not when he looked so childishly helpless. Grasping his hands tightly with his own, Iwaizumi nearly stumbled when, suddenly, something inside him exploded. His palms slid against Oikawa’s as his vision went white. The air was ripped from his lungs, as if a volleyball had gone straight through his chest.

                Iwaizumi glanced down at Oikawa and saw him looking incredibly confused. He was blinking rapidly, his irises dancing all over Iwaizumi’s face. _What the hell was that?_ Oikawa’s face seemed to read, as if he had just gone through the same thing, and Iwaizumi shook his head. He had no idea what had just happened… His hands suddenly felt very clammy.

                He quickly got Oikawa to his feet and frowned at him, trying to get whatever occurred out of his head. For now, anyway.

                ‘Come on,’ he muttered, getting Oikawa’s arm over his shoulders. ‘Can you walk?’

                ‘Uh… y-yeah, I think so…’

                ‘Matsukawa. Hanamaki. Help them out. I’ll see you later, alright?’ their coach spoke up, but Matsukawa, being the tallest out all of them at this stage, had already gone to Oikawa’s other side, mirroring Iwaizumi’s position. Hanamaki answered for them both with a nod aimed at their coach and proclaimed to the three that he would be the doorman and clear the path for them.

                As they walked towards the exit of the gymnasium—or limped in Oikawa’s case—Iwaizumi felt Oikawa shaking. It was obvious he was trying to keep his true feelings at bay, but Iwaizumi knew better. He whispered, as gently as he could, in Oikawa’s ear that it was okay, he was going to be okay. The grateful smile Oikawa sent his way made Iwaizumi’s heart stutter. But their little moment didn’t last long as they heard the other teammates whispering amongst themselves.

                It was when their captain muttered nearby, though loud enough for them to hear, ‘Fucking first-years. Completely useless,’ did all four of them send him a heavy glare over their shoulders. He fell silent, but scowled at them heatedly before turning his back and strutting away.

                ‘We’ll show him,’ Hanamaki growled, sliding the door open and stepping to one side to let the trio through. ‘We’ll be the best players on this damn team once he’s gone.’

                ‘Don’t understand why he won’t let us play to our potential,’ Matsukawa added. ‘Especially you two. You’ve certainly got some tricks up your sleeves, don’t ya?’

                ‘Something like that.’ Iwaizumi turned his head to face Oikawa’s jaw. ‘But hopefully we’ll still have a chance to show them if you haven’t injured yourself forever.’

                Oikawa let out a bubbly laugh. ‘Come on, Iwa-chan! I’m sure it’s not that bad!’

                Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. Matsukawa snorted. Hanamaki yelled at some students who were in the way, pointing behind him at the three of them.

                _Hopefully Oikawa’s right,_ Iwaizumi thought. _Hopefully it’s nothing serious._

                Going along the corridor towards the infirmary, Iwaizumi couldn’t shake off what had happened in the gymnasium. It was as if he was six years old again, and the feeling in his stomach lingered. It had made a violent reappearance the moment he had taken Oikawa’s hands.

                But what did that mean? It had been ten years… why now?

                He shook his head inwardly. _Now’s not the time. You have to make sure Trashykawa’s okay and that he hasn’t hurt himself too badly. You can worry about the other thing later._

                At least, that was what he tried to tell himself. As they went through the infirmary doors and hoisted Oikawa onto a bed, the part of Iwaizumi’s skin where Oikawa’s arm had been turned cold.

 

* * *

 

As it turned out, it was very serious.

                ‘A torn tendon?’

                ‘Yeah,’ Oikawa told them. ‘The specialist told me that if I’m not careful in the future, I can say goodbye to volleyball.’

                The nurse in the infirmary had only given Oikawa a patch-up job and a stern warning not to do any volleyball practice until he had seen a specialist. It was only the next morning he had somehow, miraculously, managed to see a doctor and there he was, relaying the information to his three friends over lunch in Iwaizumi’s classroom.

                He had told them in such a casual tone that it caused Iwaizumi to dump his chopsticks on the table and send him a furious look. ‘What did I tell you about overworking yourself?’

                ‘I know, Iwa-chan… but I didn’t think it would be _that_ bad. I thought I could take it.’

                ‘You have those thoughts again and I _will_ punch you, Shittykawa,’ Iwaizumi groused, picking up his chopsticks and stabbing them into his rice. ‘You need to take better care of yourself.’

                ‘Why would I do that when I have you, Iwa-chan?’ Oikawa sang, batting his eyelashes and smiling furtively. He shrieked when Iwaizumi chose to flick a piece of carrot at his face. ‘Iwa-chan, not the face! Mean!’

                ‘What a waste of carrot,’ Hanamaki piped up, chuckling at the betrayed look Oikawa sent his way. But he quickly turned grim and said, ‘Iwaizumi’s right, though, Oikawa. Let’s be real—once we get into third year, _you’re_ gonna be the one who’s gonna lead us. So don’t kill yourself before we get there.’

                Oikawa’s eyebrows shot into his hairline and his mouth parted in an ‘o’. Iwaizumi smiled fondly. Hanamaki was right. Oikawa was the smartest and most dedicated to volleyball out of the four, and Iwaizumi, Hanamaki and Matsukawa had discussed that, yes, Oikawa would be their captain. No doubt about that.

                ‘You guys really think that?’ Oikawa’s voice, usually so bright and loud—too loud, in Iwaizumi’s personal opinion—had grown small.

                ‘Of course,’ Matsukawa said without hesitation, holding his hands out in a gesture that read are-you-seriously-doubting-us? ‘We need someone to buy us ramen when we lose, and you’re the perfect candidate.’

                They burst out laughing—even Oikawa—before falling silent and tucking into their food once again. It was a minute before Matsukawa muttered, after swallowing a large mouthful of pork, ‘You know… I heard something in the corridor today.’

                ‘Hm? Like what?’ Oikawa asked, chewing on rice. Iwaizumi saw a grain on the corner of his mouth and resisted the urge to wipe it off.

                Matsukawa leaned in—making the others lean in as well—and whispered, ‘Two girls in my class found their soulmates this morning.’

                ‘Shit!’

                ‘Really?’

                He nodded, then sighed, his tone turning wistful. ‘Now they can see colour and everything and won’t shut up about it. But… they’re happy.’ He smiled sadly, his eyes darting down towards his container of food, which caused Iwaizumi to raise a curious eyebrow. ‘Must be nice… I wonder what we all look like in colour.’

                ‘Ha! We’re all ugly,’ Hanamaki cackled. ‘Let’s face it, Oikawa’s the only pretty one here.’

                ‘If you're complimenting me so that I'll buy you ramen in the future, nice try, Makki, but no.’

                ‘Well, I tried.’

                Shaking his head at Hanamaki, Iwaizumi, like Matsukawa, glanced down at his food. Even after all this time, the soulmate business still confused him. All he knew was that, suddenly, upon meeting your soulmate, you saw colour. How that “meeting” occurred, and the circumstances that surrounded it, Iwaizumi had no idea. Neither, it seemed, did his friends, as they fell into a deep discussion of the two girls’ life-changing moments with vigour. Staring intently at friends as they came up with theories, the thought of whether one of _them_ could be his soulmate crossed his mind.

                _What the hell, Hajime? As if! They’ve all probably got some girls waiting for them out there._

                But as his eyes landed on Oikawa, on his smiling mouth and round, excited eyes, Iwaizumi’s heartbeat picked up in speed. His cheeks went warm at the thought… maybe Oikawa? It would certainly explain the odd feeling he had had a number of times in his gut, and he had only ever experienced it around Oikawa and the first time he had heard “soulmate” itself. It had come back for the first time in _years_ when he had held Oikawa’s hands in the gymnasium the previous day, and it had come back _tenfold._

                There was just one, tiny, truly small problem.

                Black and white, with the odd grey, was all Iwaizumi could see. That, and Oikawa had made no mention of being able to see colour. Everything was just the same as it had been before the incident.

                _Don’t be an idiot. You’re obviously not soulmates._

                Yet, the more Iwaizumi thought about it, the more he came to realise that maybe… maybe he was crushing on Oikawa. Maybe, deep down, he _wanted_ Oikawa to be his soulmate.

                _Where the hell is this coming from?_

                He scowled, and was only brought out of his thoughts when a hand was waved in front of his face.

                ‘Huh?’

                ‘Oh, he’s back.’ Hanamaki grinned at him, poking his cheek with the tip of his chopstick. ‘Watcha thinking about? Been calling your name.’

                ‘Nothing.’ Iwaizumi cleared his throat. ‘Got lost thinking about nothing. Didn’t realise I was spacing out.’

                He said it way too quickly, and was obviously lying, but surprisingly, his friends seemed to buy it. They went back to talking amongst themselves and Iwaizumi blew out a breath slowly through his nose.

                As lunch went on, Iwaizumi thought more and more about the idea of Oikawa being the one for him. They had known each other their whole lives—that was the first thing. Oikawa, also, often commented that Iwaizumi was the best thing that had ever happened to him, that he was the only one he could trust with his secrets, that he was his pillar in life… his very, very best friend.

                Then he realised that he had been looking at Oikawa more lately. Sometimes he had found himself thinking about how cute he looked when he was excited, or how endearing it was when he went on one of his rants about his conspiracy theories and aliens and space. Just the other day, Iwaizumi remembered how Oikawa’s windswept hair—as it had been very windy that day—had actually suited him very well.

                Iwaizumi screamed at himself.

                Was he falling for Oikawa Tooru? Was he falling in love with the one he considered to be his best friend?

                Oikawa chose then to glance at him, lips pulling back into a gentle smile as he asked him his opinion on the girls in Matsukawa’s class. Iwaizumi swore, at that moment, that his heart stopped beating.

 

* * *

 

The months went by. The seasons shifted, a cold front hitting Miyagi as the school year came to a close. The third years had graduated and the little first years had gone into second year come April, fresh from the winter break, their heads held high and hearts soaring with determination.

                The volleyball team’s new captain was much more accommodating than the last one, and the four new second-years had been given the chance to hone their skills and to show off their combinations. _Finally_. The captain had been so impressed by Oikawa’s and Iwaizumi’s efforts as a duo that he let them become regular players on the team, as well as Hanamaki and Matsukawa. It was their first step towards becoming the best players in Miyagi, and possibly Japan.

                Iwaizumi was incredibly excited over the thought, as was Oikawa, who at that moment couldn’t stop raving about their latest practice session. He didn’t hold back on telling Iwaizumi about possibly trying out all these new attacks, and how he couldn’t wait to start using his jump serves in a proper match. None of them could wait until the Inter-High Tournament.

                ‘We’re gonna beat Shiratorizawa this year!’ Oikawa crowed as he and Iwaizumi entered the gymnasium for their next practice, making a beeline towards the change room. ‘Just you wait!’

                ‘First we need to get through to the finals, Oikawa,’ Iwaizumi said wisely, dumping his bag in his locker and taking off his jacket.

                ‘A small and insignificant detail, Iwa-chan.’ Oikawa grinned wickedly at him. ‘We’re definitely getting through. Have you seen how _good_ we are?’

                Oikawa was right. They had all improved immensely over the winter break—as Oikawa had made it compulsory for the four of them to train together as much as possible when it wasn’t snowing—and they were looking great for the Inter-High Tournament. But Iwaizumi didn’t say that out loud. He didn’t want to fuel Oikawa’s already inflated ego. So he let out a short sound and made an offhand comment about how slow Oikawa was as he walked out of the change room and started to warm-up. Oikawa cried out in protest behind him and Iwaizumi simply laughed.

                But also during the break, Iwaizumi’s confused and wayward feelings had formed into an undeniable conclusion: he was in love with Oikawa. How it had come to this, Iwaizumi hadn’t the faintest idea, but it was evident. Oikawa was the love of his life. Now all he had to do was wait for that signal, wait for that burst of colour in his vision to tell him that yes, yes, Oikawa is your soulmate, you are destined to be together, you are free to love him.

                He’s yours.

                The pair were soon joined by Matsukawa and Hanamaki, and the four stretched on the sidelines of the court, not wanting to get in anyone’s way as they, too, stretched and ran laps around the gymnasium. Iwaizumi was in charge of helping Oikawa stretch his “dodgy leg” as he called it, his fingers gripping Oikawa’s calf and pushing it gently down towards his torso, as Oikawa lay flat on his back with his arms above his head. It was during this that Hanamaki let out a short breath and stretched his long legs in front of him.

                ‘Hey… we have some news, guys.’

                Turning their heads to Hanamaki, Oikawa and Iwaizumi had intrigue painted on their faces. They waited for Hanamaki to enlighten them, but were surprised when he tucked his bottom lip between his teeth and set his gaze on his feet. They became even more so when they saw that Matsukawa, who had not uttered a word, had glowing cheeks.

                Hanamaki sucked in a breath and whispered, ‘Mattsun and I found our soulmates today.’

                Iwaizumi dropped Oikawa’s leg. The heel of his foot landed on top of his, making him wince, but that was the last thing on his mind. Oikawa sat up and gaped at his two friends, bouncing excitedly in his spot as he demanded loudly to know who. But when Hanamaki and Matsukawa exchanged glances—ones that lasted a split second—Iwaizumi’s lips split into a huge smile.

                ‘You’re each other’s soulmates, aren’t ya?’

                Oikawa whipped towards him, shock enveloping his features, before returning to their two friends. ‘What? Is that true, guys?’

                Matsukawa hid his flushed face in his palms and Hanamaki rubbed the back of his neck. It was enough of a confirmation for both Oikawa and Iwaizumi, and they both tackled them into a hug, spouting out words of congratulations and, in Oikawa’s case, became glassy-eyed in joy. They bombarded them with questions, not giving them a moment to breathe. How did it happen? What’s it like to see colour? Are you happy? What’s it like?

                ‘It just… happened,’ Hanamaki whispered. ‘We bumped into each other on the way to class this morning and BAM. Colour!’

                ‘It’s really beautiful, you know,’ Matsukawa said matter-of-factly, watching Hanamaki from the corner of his eye. ‘It’s a really nice feeling. I’m really happy.’

                ‘And to be fair, I couldn’t see anyone else being mine but Mattsun,’ Hanamaki continued in the same, casual tone. ‘So there you have it.’

                They then turned their heads to face each other fully, reaching for each other’s hands. The action prompted a shriek from Oikawa and several snaps from his phone as he took photos, but it was when their fingers tangled together and their eyes crinkled, in what Iwaizumi could only label as complete adoration, did a small detail come to mind.

                Hanamaki and Matsukawa had known each other for nearly two years. Yet… only now, only today, did they see colour. That fact filled Iwaizumi with more hope than it should have.

                In response to what he was looking at, he fought a smile and moaned, ‘Ugh, you’re disgustingly cute, but I’ll forgive you this time.’

                Hanamaki looked as though he was about to give a retort when they were interrupted by the captain coming over and telling them to get ready for some spiking practice. The four went towards the edge of the court—Matsukawa and Hanamaki still holding hands—and waited for the other members to join them. As they stood, Iwaizumi, despite being incredibly happy for his friends, couldn’t help but feel a little jealous.

                In fact, all throughout the rest of the session, the newly-found soulmates plagued Iwaizumi’s mind. His eyes lingered on the pair as they interacted with one another, from brushing their hands when they passed by each other to stealing glances and secretive smiles in between sets, or as they simply stood, side-by-side, with their arms around each other’s waists. It was business as usual, really, just with the two being more open with their affections, and with their visions filled with hues and tones other than black, white and grey.

                God… god, did he want that with Oikawa. It alarmed him to admit it to himself, but god… he wanted that with Oikawa _so_ bad.

                The thought stayed with him as practice came to an end. The captain was super excited by their progress—even though he had had to endure one of the first years telling him off for screwing up half the time—and he demanded that they all get a good night’s rest. Practice would resume tomorrow and then the Inter-High would begin. A hearty cheer and a promise to take down Shiratorizawa filled the gymnasium, bouncing off the walls and ceiling, before the team started to pack up. As they took down the nets and picked up the stray volleyballs around the court, Iwaizumi kept his eyes on Hanamaki and Matsukawa, his earlier envy sprouting deeper within himself at the sight of how in love they were.

                How lucky they were.

                After about twenty minutes, they disappeared into the change room with the rest of the team, leaving behind Oikawa and Iwaizumi to gather the last few volleyballs from their corner of the court. Dumping the balls into the blue-canvased trolley, Iwaizumi rubbed his tender forearms, already feeling the bruises starting to form—and he had just gotten over last week’s! _Better put some cream on them when I get home…_

                ‘Hey.’

                Glancing at Oikawa’s smiling face, Iwaizumi raised an expectant eyebrow.

                ‘Can you see colour, Iwa-chan?’

                Iwaizumi frowned. _That was completely out of the blue._

                ‘No.’ He gave him a look. ‘Why?’

                The smile faltered, and something about that bothered Iwaizumi. He couldn’t place his finger on what exactly it was, but Oikawa let out a laugh before he could begin to decipher it.

                ‘No reason,’ he told him, focusing his gaze on the empty court. ‘Just wanted to know exactly what colour our uniforms are, the balls and just how pretty _I_ am in colour!’

                Rolling his eyes, Iwaizumi hit Oikawa in the stomach—which elicited a loud and squeaky yelp from him—and growled, ‘You’re a fucking loser, Oikawa.’

                ‘Iwa-chan! You’re so mean!’

                Iwaizumi laughed softly. Then he grew sombre, staring ahead at the court like Oikawa had just done. He heard him hum in confusion, no doubt a result of how suddenly Iwaizumi had gone quiet.

                ‘If I did see colour,’ he began, voice low, ‘you’d be the first person I’d tell. Just as you would tell me if you saw them, right?’

                Oikawa’s eyes went round, gaping at Iwaizumi. Then he smiled again—that same odd smile Iwaizumi couldn’t figure out—and exclaimed, ‘Of _course_ , Iwa-chan! Why would you think otherwise?’

                ‘Dunno,’ Iwaizumi told him, his voice light and teasing. ‘But you’re a shitty guy, so anything’s possible.’

                ‘ _Iwa-chan!_ ’

                ‘Come on, already,’ Iwaizumi called from over his shoulder as he grabbed onto the edge of the trolley of volleyballs, wheeling it into the corner before heading towards the change room. The manager would store them away before locking up, just as he usually did. ‘Let’s go and get changed so we can go home. Mum wants you over for dinner, so we better not be late.’

                The sound of Oikawa’s shoes hitting the floor as he ran after him reached Iwaizumi’s ears, but that still didn’t prepare him for the tackle that hit him when Oikawa hugged him from behind.

                ‘You know I love you, right?’

                Iwaizumi’s heart stuttered. _What’s with the sudden questions and shit today, Oikawa? You trying to trip me up? It’s working._ He tried to conceal his shaking voice as he replied with, ‘I love you, too. Now come on, we’re gonna be late if we don’t hurry!’

                However, when the pair got to the change room, they were met with an interesting scene, something that would delay their departure further. The majority of the team had already left, either waiting outside or rushing home to awaiting parents. Only Matsukawa and Hanamaki remained, and the last thing they were doing was “changing”. Oikawa and Iwaizumi exchanged a brief look as they hid in the corner, unseen thus far by their friends, and then watched as Hanamaki pressed Matsukawa against the wall, leaning in to join their lips in a gentle kiss.

                Iwaizumi’s stomach surged with butterflies. He should have been grossed out at seeing his two friends kissing, but that was the last thing he felt, if at all. He was mesmerised, both fascinated and terribly bitter. The thought of kissing Oikawa like that one day made his cheeks bloom, and that alone made him desperate to be in their position, only with Oikawa pressing him against the wall, only with Oikawa’s hands cupping his face and only with Oikawa’s thumbs brushing his cheeks.

                Only Oikawa.

                Peeking over at his childhood friend, Iwaizumi saw that he was glued to the scene, intrigued by what Matsukawa and Hanamaki were doing. In that moment, in the dimly-lit change room, past seven o’clock at night and how close they were to each other, Iwaizumi had the profound urge to follow Matsukawa’s and Hanamaki’s lead, to grab Oikawa’s face and kiss him hard. It made him flustered, and he bit his lip to try and contain himself. Oikawa chose to look at Iwaizumi then, and the wicked grin that graced his mouth made Iwaizumi incredibly suspicious.

                It was when he took his phone out that Iwaizumi got the memo. And he grinned evilly too.

                They were shits. They always had been. Matsukawa and Hanamaki were also shits, and had pranked them plenty of times in the past. As Oikawa started recording—no doubt—he smirked at Iwaizumi expectantly. Iwaizumi had the perfect idea.

                He sucked in a breath.

                ‘Oh my god! This is amazing!’

                The reaction was instantaneous. Matsukawa and Hanamaki broke apart so fast that Hanamaki nearly tripped backwards over the bench that was behind him and Matsukawa hit the back of his head against the wall he had been pressed up against. Their faces were glowing, growing darker in embarrassment as Oikawa and Iwaizumi made themselves known.

                ‘Would you look at this? It appears we’ve interrupted the two wild Seijou boys from their mating ritual!’

                Iwaizumi spoke to the camera on Oikawa’s phone, pointing behind him at the flushed boys. He tried to keep a straight face, but it was being proved difficult as Oikawa started crying from the sheer will of trying not to laugh.

                ‘I think we better run before they eat us alive! But what you’ve witnessed is a very important step in the process of what we like to call Seijou sexual education. I would continue but I can see that the smaller wild Seijou boy is about to fucking beat me up—Oikawa, get our bags, you’re closer!’

                ‘I’ll _fucking_ kill you guys!’ was what Hanamaki managed to yell as Oikawa and Iwaizumi ran out of the change room, cackling and laughing madly at what they had just done. Never mind that they were still in their volleyball gear, never mind that people were giving them strange looks on the street, and never mind that Oikawa had hastily grabbed their bags on the way out before Matsukawa or Hanamaki could go after them—and no doubt leaving behind several things in their lockers—they were high on their own genius. They ran all the way to Iwaizumi’s house, their friends’ misfortune still causing them to snort and howl with laughter.

                They were greeted by Iwaizumi’s mother, each with a ruffle to their hair and a kiss. His mother feigned surprise when she saw Oikawa, tutting, ‘You’ve grown so tall! When did you get so old, Tooru-kun?’

                He had simply chuckled and waved a hand, saying, ‘I’ve always been tall, Iwaizumi-san!’

                Later on in the evening, after having stuffed themselves with Iwaizumi-san’s infamous cooking, Iwaizumi and Oikawa found refuge in Iwaizumi’s room. They were lying on their stomachs in Iwaizumi’s bed, re-watching the video they had made on Oikawa’s phone. Iwaizumi was wiping tears from his eyes from the horrified expressions on their faces and Oikawa was struggling to breath at Iwaizumi’s nature-show talk.

                ‘Should I send it to the group chat?’ Oikawa asked Iwaizumi once he had regained his breath, his mouthing splitting into a huge smile.

                ‘Is that even a question?’

                Oikawa sent it immediately.

 

**[Oi-Oi-Oikawa sent a video]**

**Oi-Oi-Oikawa**

Look at you lovebirds

Sooooo in loveeeeeeee

Be careful not to ruin any innocent eyes in the future

Or I’ll get Iwa-chan to do another documentary

**[Makki_Tana is online]**

**Makki_Tana**

you guys suCK WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS

**[Issei_Mattsun is online]**

**Issei_Mattsun**

this is payback for the noodle moustache isn’t it?

**Oi-Oi-Oikawa**

Damn right you bastard

Enjoy the video~

**[Oi-Oi-Oikawa is offline]**

 

                Iwaizumi laughed into his hand once Oikawa sent the last message, and Oikawa shone with victory. He was interrupted by his phone vibrating; checking it, he told Iwaizumi his mum had given permission to stay the night. He locked it and put it aside, laying his head on his arms and breathing through his nose.

                ‘You know,’ he said softly, ‘as much as we tease them, I’m happy for them.’

                Iwaizumi propped himself up on his elbows, nodding in agreement. ‘Yeah. You can see how in love they are with each other. It’s nice to see.’

                Oikawa hummed. He let his eyelids slide shut and he whispered, ‘I hope we find someone like that for ourselves one day.’

                ‘We will. Just gotta wait for that signal, right?’

                Eyes opening, Oikawa stared at Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi stared back, unsure of the blank expression that had encompassed Oikawa’s face.

                ‘I want nothing but the best for you, Hajime.’

                _But I already have the best_ , was the thought that came straight to Iwaizumi’s mind.

                ‘Yeah? Just so you know, Tooru, I’m interviewing your soulmate when you find them,’ was what he muttered out loud, moving to lay on his back and turning to gaze at his friend. ‘They need to be worth your time.’

                Oikawa’s eyes crinkled in mirth at that. He poked Iwaizumi’s shoulder. ‘Look at you, being all protective.’

                ‘Well, someone needs to take care of you. You’re constantly on the move to hurt yourself.’

                ‘Good thing I have you, then,’ Oikawa mumbled into his arm, but loud enough for Iwaizumi to hear.

                A peaceful silence fell upon them. It was true. Oikawa did have Iwaizumi to sort him out. It had become the norm over the years, and Iwaizumi’s stomach flipped unpleasantly at the thought of someone else taking his place in the future. No one knew Oikawa the way Iwaizumi knew him, and no one knew him as well as Oikawa did.

                ‘Dumbarse… you’ll always have me,’ Iwaizumi told him. ‘I don’t care who your soulmate is, you’re not getting rid of me that easily.’

                Laughing softly—more like a breath of air than an actual laugh—Oikawa shifted onto his side and placed the palm of his hand on Iwaizumi’s chest. His skin tingled where the fingers settled against his shirt, sending the feeling all down his body. He just hoped Oikawa couldn’t feel the jumping mess that was his heart.

                ‘I wouldn’t get rid of you in the first place, Iwa-chan,’ Oikawa whispered, grinning at him. ‘You’re my best friend… My soulmate will just have to learn to deal with you as well as me.’

                _But I want_ you _to be my soulmate,_ Iwaizumi mused. _You. Just you._

                He grasped the hand, feeling slender fingers against his own thicker ones, and told Oikawa seriously, ‘I’ll hold you to that.’

                They went to bed not long after that—with Oikawa declaring loudly, ‘We need to sleep in order to properly see Ushiwaka’s defeated face!’—but Iwaizumi was having trouble falling asleep. His brain was like a whirlpool, thoughts unable to settle. Oikawa, on the other hand, was snoring softly next to him, his hands curled under his chin. _Lucky bastard._

                Moon beams from the sliver of space between the curtains of Iwaizumi’s bedroom window splashed across Oikawa’s slumbering face, highlighting the slight pout of his lips and the fluttering of his eyelashes as he dreamed. Iwaizumi was suddenly taken back to the change room, back to the scene of his two best friends kissing in the corner. The urge to kiss Oikawa returned tenfold, but this time, he found himself leaning towards him. His lips _just_ brushed the smooth skin of Oikawa’s forehead, and that alone made the skin of his mouth burn.

                Reality hit him in the face and he pulled away quickly before he did something remotely stupid, like actually kiss Oikawa on the _mouth_ , and turned his back on his friend.

                When he did manage to fall asleep, Iwaizumi had a vivid dream that night of kissing Oikawa. His mouth was soft against his and his hands left feathery touches on his cheeks. There were whispered words of love and tenderness in his ears, left behind alongside brushes of thumbs and lips. The dream was so intense that Iwaizumi woke up the next morning with his mouth on fire and Oikawa’s name on his tongue.

                If he didn’t find out if Oikawa was his soulmate while he still had the chance, Iwaizumi wondered if he just might go insane.

 

* * *

 

They didn’t beat Shiratorizawa. They didn’t beat them in the Inter-High Tournament, nor did they beat them in the Spring Tournament.

                But instead of being disheartened, the Seijou four were even more determined to beat them in their final year of high school—and how quickly did that opportunity arrive. The new school year had started, and the reality had settled in for the now-third year quartet. This was it.

                Oikawa, the newly-appointed captain of Aoba Johsai’s volleyball team—just as they had predicted he would be in their first year—made a heartfelt vow that they would be the first to break Shiratorizawa’s winning streak. He had the aggressive support of Matsukawa, Hanamaki and Iwaizumi behind him, as well as the juniors that made up the rest of the team.

                Assessments flew by and the weeks turned into months, going much too quickly for Iwaizumi’s liking. They practiced as hard as they could, and the third years were delighted with the talent displayed in their team. Two new first years had been introduced to the team, and both Oikawa and Iwaizumi were thrilled to have learnt that they were from their old junior high school and a part of their old volleyball team: Kitagawa Daiichi. Kindaichi and Kunimi were both rather nervous to be assimilated into the team, despite knowing Oikawa and Iwaizumi. But they became fast friends with everyone the space of a few weeks.

                Everything was falling into place.

                But one thing that Iwaizumi had not expected was to be appointed vice-captain. He had been certain it would be Hanamaki, but when Oikawa brought him the news that no, _Iwaizumi_ was the vice-captain, he had nearly slapped his friend for joking about it. But, of course, he had not been joking. The ace and setter duo was back better than ever, and Iwaizumi was more pumped than he had been his entire school volleyball career.

                This was their last chance, their last go at going to Nationals.

                It was Iwaizumi’s last chance to play with Oikawa before heading off to university.

                This was their last chance to beat Shiratorizawa, for their honour and their pride.

                It was also Iwaizumi’s last chance, his last year, to find out if Oikawa was, indeed, his soulmate.

                He had had a bit of a panic attack when Oikawa announced that he had a girlfriend, but Iwaizumi had quickly learnt that it was nothing special. ‘An experiment,’ Oikawa had called it. But why Oikawa had _really_ gotten a girlfriend, Iwaizumi never found out, but he was glad more than he could admit that it hadn’t lasted that long.

                Iwaizumi still hadn’t had that experience of a firework in his vision, with all the colours of the world flooding his eyesight, and neither had Oikawa. If he had, he hadn’t said anything to Iwaizumi. However, Iwaizumi wanted to know whether or not that was the case before the end of high school. He didn’t want to graduate without knowing who his soulmate was.

                Or rather, he didn’t want to graduate without knowing if _Oikawa_ was his soulmate.

                Yet all of that had been pushed into the back of his mind as the Spring Tournament came closer and closer. The Inter-High had been unsuccessful in terms of beating Shiratorizawa, and Iwaizumi had grown very sceptical of Karasuno’s return to power. He could tell that Oikawa had been shaken up by the unwavering skill their former junior at Kitagawa Daiichi, Kageyama Tobio, had displayed during their match—not to mention those crazy quicks he had done with his friend… Hinata or something rather. Number Ten.

                They had a new rival on the field, one that could potentially throw them out of the competition altogether. That terrified Iwaizumi to the core.

                As a response, Oikawa had, on most nights, remained behind after practice, promising the manager to lock up once he left. He went on and on and on until Iwaizumi had to personally drag him out of the gymnasium in sheer fear that Oikawa would injure his knee again, and this time, render himself crippled forever. The pair had gotten into several arguments over the matter, Oikawa’s reasoning being, ‘We can’t lose our chance at going to Nationals! I need to be in prime shape, Iwa-chan!’ It only ended when Iwaizumi threatened to tell Oikawa’s parents about how he was putting himself in danger of having a permanent injury, and to tell the rest of the team how he had become a tyrant.

                While he wanted to strangle Oikawa on the days where he was unfalteringly stubborn, Iwaizumi understood where he came from. He was feeling the pressure too.

                But now, the spring was here. With the spring came the Spring Tournament. Heading towards the change room on the day they were to play Karasuno, the last match before going on to play Shiratorizawa—oh, the ever annoying _Shiratorizawa_ , best volleyball team in the prefecture—Iwaizumi was nervous as hell. His mind was whirling with tactics and possible ways to grind Karasuno into the ground, but his body was trembling. Whether it was from the nervous energy or the adrenaline, Iwaizumi wasn’t sure.

                Oikawa was nervous too, or at least somewhat agitated, as he tailed Iwaizumi. Walking with him to the venue that morning, Iwaizumi had seen just how preoccupied Oikawa was with the match. He looked as though he hadn’t slept at all, with dark pockets under his eyes, not to mention that his hair was a complete mess—so unlike the sleek, stylish look that was Oikawa Tooru—and his mouth was pressed into a thin, thin line.

                To be honest, he looked how Iwaizumi felt.

_Focus._

                Breathing in when they reached the change room, Iwaizumi grabbed the handle of the door and gripped it tightly. Before he opened it, he felt he needed to say something, so he turned to face Oikawa.

                ‘Oi.’ Oikawa blinked owlishly at him. ‘We are gonna win this, understand? So stop worrying… Trashykawa.’

                Oikawa let loose a smile and nodded once. ‘Yes. Yes, we are.’

                ‘Good.’ Iwaizumi opened the door and stepped in, only to step out again immediately and cover his eyes. ‘Are you _fucking_ kidding me right now?’

                ‘Oh hey, Iwaizumi.’

                Iwaizumi heard Oikawa laugh heartedly and then felt him pull him back into the change room by his elbow. Iwaizumi had been met with the sight of Matsukawa and Hanamaki in the middle of what was clearly a very heavy and intense make-out. He wouldn’t have been so fussed about it—as he had seen them make-out before—but this time, Hanamaki had no shirt on and Matsukawa’s was in the process of being unbuttoned. He was about to tell them off for being _severely_ inappropriate, but Oikawa got there before him.

                ‘Do you two have _no_ shame?’ he cried, dropping his bag on the floor and planting his hands on his hips. ‘What if one of the juniors had come in and saw you two at it, huh? You’d scar them for life!’

                Matsukawa, who had moved away from Hanamaki, rolled his eyes. ‘Come on, it was _one_ little kiss! I doubt they would get scarred over that—besides, they’ve seen us doing it before!’

                Iwaizumi tried not to laugh as he mumbled, ‘That was not a little kiss if ever I saw one. You practically had your tongues down each other’s throats!’

                ‘That’s a lie!’

                ‘Oh really?’ Oikawa challenged as he bent down to open his bag, glancing over his shoulder at the pair. ‘Then why is Hanamaki half-naked and why are you looking as though you’re going the same way?’

                Hanamaki smirked at him and retorted with, ‘Because we’re getting changed, Captain. You expect us to play volleyball in our school uniforms?’

                Hanamaki then burst out laughing at the withered look Oikawa sent him. Matsukawa grinned as well as he opened his locker and dumped his bag in it. Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow at them as he took out his volleyball gear and placed it on a bench, near Hanamaki’s and Matsukawa’s, toeing off his shoes as he did so.

                Then he said matter-of-factly, ‘No, but we don’t expect you to play half-naked either, Makki, or with Mattsun’s hand going down your pants.’

                Oikawa roared with laughter and Hanamaki flushed deeply, flipping Iwaizumi off with both hands. Matsukawa, on the other hand, just turned to face his open locker, ears and neck turning darker by the second.

                ‘Good one, Iwa-chan!’

                Iwaizumi sent him a thumbs up.

                Perhaps keen to change the topic, Hanamaki delved into discussion about the upcoming match, moaning about how little sleep he got the night before. The other three concurred, commenting on their own troubles of sleeping and nervousness regarding the match. But keen to forget about the match for a second, they fell into their usual jokey manner.

                But Iwaizumi turned worried for a moment when he realised that they were still the only ones there. ‘Where are the juniors?’

                Oikawa frowned, then shrugged. ‘Probably on the way, Iwa-chan.’

                ‘Maybe,’ Matsukawa muttered from his spot on the bench, pulling on his socks. ‘Or they could be arguing with the juniors from the other schools. I wouldn’t put it past them.’

                ‘That is true,’ Hanamaki mused. He turned to Iwaizumi then, who became dubious at the shit-eating grin that formed on his face. ‘But you know, speaking of the juniors… I think they have a crush on you, Iwaizumi.’

                Iwaizumi stared at him blankly. ‘What?’

                Matsukawa started to chuckle and Hanamaki’s grin only grew. ‘You heard me. The juniors all have a crush on you.’

                ‘On _me?_ Are you sure?’

                ‘Oh, we’re definitely sure, Iwa-chan,’ Oikawa spoke up, winking at Iwaizumi—which alone made tingles break out on his skin. ‘They never shut up about you!’

                ‘Fuck off…’ Iwaizumi shucked his shirt off and went to grab his jersey. ‘This is real funny, guys…’

                ‘You think we’re joking?’ Matsukawa asked him, genuine surprise forming around his features. ‘My god, he thinks we’re joking!’

                ‘Trust me, Iwa-chan, they’re all crushing on you. _Hard_.’ Oikawa ruffled his hair in the mirror in an attempt to make it look somewhat better than the rat’s nest that had been there before—he hadn’t had the time or energy to fix it that morning, as he had told Iwaizumi—before glancing at Iwaizumi through the reflection. ‘ _Especially_ Kindaichi.’

                ‘Oh man, Kindaichi’s go it in so bad for you, Iwaizumi!’ Hanamaki cackled, tugging on his jersey and tucking it into his shorts. ‘You should hear him. “I can never be as good as Iwaizumi-senpai! Kunimi, how can I ever be as good as him? He such a good ace and senpai and I’m just a sad excuse of a kouhai! He’s even vice-captain, not to mention _so_ buff! I’m so skinny compared to him!”’

                Iwaizumi’s whole face glowed and he remained frozen with his arms through the sleeves of his jersey. But his friends weren’t quite done.

                ‘Yeah, Kindaichi’s bad, but he’s not as bad as Kyoutani,’ Matsukawa told them wisely.

                ‘Don’t even mention Mad Dog-chan!’ Oikawa wailed, scowling. ‘Ugh, he’s so _smitten_ with Iwa-chan! It’s so unfair! _I’m_ the captain and he won’t even look at me!’

                ‘Do I sense jealously, Oikawa-senpai?’ Hanamaki teased, yelping loudly and dancing out of the way when Oikawa threw his towel at him, having just taken it out of his bag.

                ‘I do _not_ get jealous!’

                The two fell into an argument. Iwaizumi’s head, on the other hand, was spinning. This was certainly news to him… He couldn’t help but feel very embarrassed by all the attention. He knew that the juniors looked up to them—no surprise there, they were third years, after all—but he had never realised that they were all looking up to _him_.

_No pressure, much?_

                ‘But you know, Kyoutani only listens to Iwaizumi because he understands that he can’t be better than him,’ Matsukawa told a bickering Oikawa and Hanamaki. ‘Don’t you remember the festivals?’

                Oikawa’s face pinched as he muttered, ‘How can I forget?’

                ‘Iwaizumi beat him in everything he challenged him at,’ Matsukawa went on, grinning slightly at Oikawa’s expression. ‘He respects his defeat and now only listens to Iwaizumi.’

                ‘That doesn’t make it _okay_ , Mattsun!’ Oikawa whined, pouting heavily.

                Iwaizumi chose then to put on his jersey fully, breaking out of his spell. ‘Dunno why they’re all looking up to me, to be honest.’

                The three stared at him and Iwaizumi shifted uncomfortably at their vacant expressions.

                ‘Isn’t it obvious?’ Hanamaki told him, both his eyebrows heading into his hairline.

                Iwaizumi pursed his lips. ‘No.’

                ‘Oh, Iwa-chan.’ Oikawa slapped a hand on his shoulder, smiling gently. ‘It’s ‘cause you’re the best of the best. You’re a great senpai and an even better person. There’s everything to look up to.’

                It was amazing how quickly the mood had changed. Iwaizumi swallowed and shook his head softly. ‘Nah. That’s something we all have.’

                ‘He’s right,’ Hanamaki murmured seriously, ‘but he’s also the only one who looks really scary when he’s angry. Plus—those muscles? Oozes respect and scariness.’

                Oikawa gasped in horror. ‘That’s not true! Mattsun’s height and eyebrows make him look serious all the time! The juniors think he’s scary too!’

                ‘Hey, don’t diss the eyebrows, Oikawa!’ Matsukawa bristled, straightening his back. ‘I’m proud of these babies.’

                And the normal, crazy mood was back. Iwaizumi hid a growing smile as he folded his school uniform and took out his essentials for the match, listening as the three descended into another squabbling match. They were so loud it took Iwaizumi a moment to realise that there were noises coming from outside the change room as well.

                He froze. If the juniors were coming, they had to shut up about them right now.

                ‘Guys,’ he called.

                They continued arguing.

                ‘Guys! Shut up, they’re coming.’

                There was silence.

                ‘Shit.’

                ‘Quick, pretend we just got here and that we _haven’t_ been talking about them.’

                ‘We can’t do that, Mattsun, Makki’s got his uniform on!’

                ‘Let’s just say I got here first! I thought you were the smart one, Oikawa.’

                ‘So rude!’

                ‘ _Shut up!_ ’ Iwaizumi hissed, just as the door to the change room opened.

                ‘To be honest, I’m a little freaked out—oh!’

                Kindaichi, followed by Kunimi, stopped at the sight of their seniors. ‘G-Good morning!’ he shouted, bowing towards them. Kunimi bowed as well, echoed a, ‘‘Morning,’ before yawning widely and dumping his bag in a nearby corner.

                ‘‘Morning, kids,’ Matsukawa greeted, before asking Kindaichi, ‘what are you freaking out about?’

                Kindaichi stiffened at the question, eyes wide as though he was a deer caught in the headlights. ‘O-Oh that… It’s nothing! Just me being silly!’

                ‘I bet it’s about you, Iwaizumi,’ Hanamaki muttered into his ear; he shrieked when Iwaizumi flung the edge of his towel at him. ‘What is it with the towels today? That’s abuse!’

                ‘Shut up, then!’

                ‘Oi, leave my boyfriend alone.’

                ‘I’ll get you as well, Mattsun!’

                Oikawa chose then to slap a hand against his forehead. ‘And you call _me_ childish, Iwa-chan! Stop, all of you. Please. You’re third years. Guys.’

                Iwaizumi pointed at Oikawa. ‘Says the guy who almost cried when he saw Kageyama enter the place a few minutes ago!’

                ‘You’re a bastard, Iwa-chan!’

                ‘For fuck’s sake, get _dressed_ already!’ Hanamaki yelled. ‘We’ve been here for the past five minutes and _I’m_ dressed—you haven’t even put a shirt on and you got here the same time as me!’

                They had been there longer for five minutes, the four of them knew. But the juniors didn’t need to know that. And Matsukawa, whom Hanamaki pointed at, had only just taken his shirt off, but for the sake of keeping up appearances, he feigned hurt.

                Oikawa let out a chuckle. ‘Look at you, Makki! You’re such a senpai, bossing us around! Is… is my captaincy in question?’

                The third years exchanged one look between themselves. Given everything that had been said and done since they arrived, that was all it took for them to start rolling around laughing. Kindaichi and Kunimi, who had watched and heard everything from when they came in, gawked at them in sheer confusion. They were soon joined by Yahaba, Kyoutani and Watari, who mirrored their expressions when they were presented with the scene in front of them: Oikawa leaning against his locker, struggling to breathe; Matsukawa doubled over, shirtless; Hanamaki on his back on one of the benches, an arm thrown over his eyes; and Iwaizumi hugging himself, wheezing.

                It took them a good couple of minutes to calm down.

                ‘Wow, we’re definitely crazy,’ Matsukawa spluttered, wiping his eyes free of tears before finally pulling on his jersey.

                ‘We are,’ Oikawa declared breathlessly, smiling hugely at his friends. ‘Makes life more fun that way, don’t you reckon?’

                ‘Wow. When did you get so sentimental, Oikawa?’ Hanamaki teased, getting up from the bench and going over to poke his captain in the shoulder. ‘You getting old?’

                ‘Iwa-chan’s the grandpa, ask him.’

                ‘Oikawa, I _will_ hurt you.’

                ‘After the match, please. I want to crush Tobio-chan!’

                The words hung in the air, and everyone was horribly reminded of the reason they were there. Iwaizumi licked his drying lips and went about getting everything ready, packing away his school uniform and tucking his bag into his locker. The others got dressed in silence, occasionally whispering to each other to pass something over or to squeeze past. Their coach came in after a while, giving them a little pep talk before leaving them to calm down their nerves and to do any last preparations.

                It was the most nervous Iwaizumi had felt before any of his matches. It was do or die today.

                ‘Everyone. I want a word.’

                All eyes landed on Oikawa, who stood tall and very still. His own eyes scanned them all, and Iwaizumi picked up on a fiery glint in them. He knew that look. This was Oikawa determined _not_ to let his nerves get the better of him.

                ‘This is an important match, we all know that,’ Oikawa said, his tone firm and steady. ‘We all know the consequences… We all know what’s awaiting us if we go through. It’s scary, I know. I may not look like it, but I’m shitting myself right now.’

                There was a scatter of laughter and a few grins broke out. Oikawa continued.

                ‘But we should use that nervousness as energy. We’ll pummel Karasuno into the ground. We _will_ go on to play Shiratorizawa. We _will_ go on to Nationals, because we are Seijou! We are the best of the best! I am proud to be your captain…’ Oikawa trailed off, a little something flashing across his face for a millisecond. ‘And I am proud of all of you. So… who’s gonna win this match?’

                ‘We are!’ Watari cried, hands in fists.

                ‘Who’s gonna win this match?’ Oikawa asked again, voice louder.

                ‘We are!’ Kindaichi yelled.

_‘Who’s gonna win this match?’_

_‘We are!’_

_‘Yes, we are!’_

                Their cries echoed in the change room, each and every one now buzzing with excitement. Oikawa had always had that effect on them, especially on his fellow third years. He had been the one to smack some sense into them—sometimes literally—before a match, been the one who revved them up during a really good set, and been the one who cheered from the sidelines when he had been injured. Oikawa had always been good captain material, Hanamaki, Matsukawa and Iwaizumi had always known that.

                But Iwaizumi, at that moment, felt a bubble burst in him. He was also a captain. He, too, had a duty, and given the things that were said by his friends about the juniors, Iwaizumi had the sudden urge to voice his thoughts.

                He leaned in to Oikawa. ‘Oikawa? Can I say something?’

                Oikawa glanced at him curiously, then grinned widely and held out an arm.

                ‘Be my guest, Iwa-chan. You’re vice-captain, after all!’

                Taking a deep breath, Iwaizumi scanned everyone’s faces. He took in Yahaba’s inquisitive expression, Kyoutani’s suddenly very attentive face, Watari’s nervous eyes darting between him and Oikawa, Kunimi’s ever-presently blank expression and Kindaichi’s eager yet anxious gaze.

_Do they all seriously look up to me the way my friends told me?_

                He could sense Hanamaki’s and Matsukawa’s eyes on him from behind, and he saw Oikawa smile at him gently from the corner of his eye.

                He let out the breath he was holding.

_Right._

                ‘Usually the vice-captain gives a speech at the qualifying match for Nationals,’ Iwaizumi began slowly, ‘but considering some of the things that have come to my attention, I think it’s best if I make some things clear.’

                He paused, gauging reactions. No one said anything, so he continued.

                ‘Oikawa has already touched on this, but I want to expand on it. Each and every one of us in this room has something to bring to the table. We… we are such a _great_ team. Everyone has amazing skills, skills that will go far in life. While myself, Oikawa, Makki and Mattsun won’t be here much longer—’ His voice caught and he coughed lightly to cover it. He gestured to his juniors. ‘—you will be. So if I hear that someone is putting themselves down one more time, I will find said person and shake some sense into them, understand? You are all amazing in your own way. So no more putting down, no more comparisons—you are _awesome_.’

                Iwaizumi swallowed thickly, masking the growing lump in his throat, and stuck his hand out towards the middle.

                ‘Now who’s with me? Who’s gonna smash Karasuno and then Shiratorizawa?’

                There was silence. Then, in a single move, everyone brought their hands on top of Iwaizumi’s: Oikawa’s went first, followed by Kindaichi’s, Matsukawa’s and Hanamaki’s, Kunimi’s, Kyoutani’s, Watari’s, and then finished off with Yahaba’s. Iwaizumi saw that the juniors were fighting back tears—except for Kyoutani, but even he looked less aggressive than usual—and that his fellow third years appeared solemn.

                He exchanged a glance with Oikawa, who smiled something fierce and yelled once again, ‘Who’s gonna win this match?’

                The cry of ‘ _Seijou!_ ’ filled the change room once again, only this time, it filtered through the cracks in the door and into the hallway leading to the courts. It was followed closely by an enthusiastic sob from Kindaichi, who blubbered out, ‘You’re so cool, senpai! Don’t ever stop being cool!’

                Iwaizumi couldn’t help but ruffle his hair. The expression on his face after he had done so was enough to make Iwaizumi believe that he had made the kid’s day.

                Their coach and manager decided to return at that point, briefing them about the game ahead. They left the change room in high spirits, and Iwaizumi, for one, was ready to beat Karasuno and face Shiratorizawa, face that resolutely confident Ushijima. It was time to put them in their place once and for all. Seijou was to reign supreme, as it should have done from the very beginning.

                Iwaizumi was then suddenly pulled back by his collar, and he turned to see Oikawa. His brow had creased into a deep frown—one of determination, Iwaizumi noted—and his lips were turned down at the corners. His palms landed on Iwaizumi’s shoulders, heat spreading through his jersey and onto his skin.

                ‘What is it?’

                ‘I couldn’t help but feel that… speech of yours seemed very final,’ he whispered, gripping Iwaizumi’s shoulders tightly. ‘We are going to win this. This isn’t our last match.’

                ‘I know.’ Iwaizumi slapped Oikawa's shoulder, grinning wickedly. ‘We’re gonna beat them. We’re gonna do this, Oikawa. You and me, with our team. Then imagine Ushiwaka’s face when we win and go to Nationals instead of him.’

                At that, Oikawa’s face formed into one of triumph, his mouth curling at the corners into a devilish grin. Iwaizumi mirrored his expression and squeezed his joint.

                ‘They’re waiting. Let’s go.’

                Nodding, Oikawa started walking forwards, Iwaizumi following him. The blood was pumping away in his veins, rushing in his ears; his heart beat rapidly against his ribs, the adrenaline kicking in. The anticipation of the match ahead had become even more overwhelming than before; Iwaizumi lifted his hands and saw that they were trembling slightly. His nervousness had evolved into pure energy, a kind that was dashing through his every bone, muscle and limb.

                He was excited.

                Iwaizumi and Oikawa were reaching the back of the group, who had stopped at the entryway at the end of the corridor. The squeaking of shoes on the sleek surface of the floor could be heard, alongside the sounds of the balls being hit with such force that it was deafening. Oikawa and Iwaizumi walked faster.

                But then Oikawa said lowly, his tone serious, ‘Right, Iwa-chan. Let’s go and show Tobio-chan and that orange-haired shrimp who’s boss.’

                Iwaizumi stopped dead in his tracks and snapped his head towards Oikawa. Every single feeling was being drained away from his body. ‘What did you say?’

                Oikawa stopped as well, cocking his head to the side and staring at Iwaizumi with large eyes. Iwaizumi gulped, trying to keep his stuttering heartbeat in check. Did he hear right? Did Oikawa just say what he thought he just said? His palms grew sweaty and he discreetly wiped them against his shorts.

                ‘What is it, Iwa-chan?’

                ‘Did you say orange?’

                Oikawa’s eyebrows shot into his hairline. ‘Did I?’

                ‘Did you?’

                They stood gaping at each other, a pregnant pause settling between them. Iwaizumi’s heart thundered in his ears. _This can’t be true… Oikawa can see colour? But then that means… No, you’re thinking ahead, Hajime. There’ll be a proper explanation—_

                ‘Yeah.’

                Iwaizumi’s brain ceased to function.

                ‘When? Who is it?’

                Shrugging nonchalantly, Oikawa started walking again. ‘A while. No one you know. Not important right now. Come on! We have a match to win.’

                Slightly shocked at his casual tone, Iwaizumi nodded and tailed Oikawa and the rest of the team into the court area. But his mind wasn’t on the match as much anymore. While his face remained impassive to any passer-by, he was inwardly crying, for all he could think about was how there was now no chance for him to be with Oikawa.

                Oikawa’s soulmate was not him.

 

* * *

 

Iwaizumi lay on his back later that night, scowling at his ceiling. The match replayed itself over and over again in his head, and each time it did, the more infuriated he got. _It was the perfect spike! How did it not get in? How?_

                Growling, he got onto his side and huffed shortly through his nose.

                Seijou’s loss— _their_ loss—was one of the hardest things to come to terms with. Iwaizumi still couldn’t accept that they had been bumped out of the Spring Tournament. It seemed wrong. It seemed as if they were going to go back tomorrow to the court and play against Shiratorizawa.

                But such a thing was not going to happen.

                The memory of the events in the change room after the match bloomed in Iwaizumi’s head. He swore to himself that he would have the tearful faces of his juniors ingrained in his mind forever.

                Kindaichi had been the one who had cried the most out of the junior cohort, but the poor boy had tried to keep quiet as they had gotten changed, sobbing in the corner of the room where no one other than a glassy-eyed Kunimi could hear him. But they had all heard him. No one said a word, however, for they all, too, were grieving.

                Yahaba and Watari had been determined to be rid of their tears, wiping their eyes repeatedly and keeping their expressions blank.

                Kyoutani had been a surprise. He had been completely silent. No growling. No sobbing. Nothing. Just a couple of tears rolling shamelessly down his cheeks.

                Iwaizumi had failed them all.

                Then there was Hanamaki and Matsukawa. Iwaizumi understood their tears perfectly, for he had shed them too. That was it. No more games. No more matches. That had been their last match of high school. That had been their last match where they played together in a team. Hanamaki had struggled to get changed for he was crying so much and Matsukawa had a perpetual scowl on his face, framed by the tears that spilled over.

                Oikawa had been the only one who hadn’t cried, but Iwaizumi had seen very clearly that he had been on the verge of doing so. He had remained impassive and strong for his team. The captain was their pillar, the one who had taken the defeat the hardest, yet still endured the need to cry. He had ended up leaving for what he described as, ‘Some fresh air,’ only to come back fired up and irritated. He had come face-to-face with Ushijima in the corridor.

                Iwaizumi had failed them as well. That failure hurt more than any other.

                Then, when they had packed up and were just about to leave, something incredible happened. The third years were stopped by their juniors, only to see them gathered together, their faces twisted with resolution. Yahaba had stepped forward, using his shirt to wipe his cheeks and eyes before glaring at his seniors.

                ‘We’ll beat them next time!’ he had yelled, his hands curled into fists by his sides. ‘We’ll beat Karasuno and then Shiratorizawa! We’ll train hard and beat them!’ He then bowed as low as he could standing up and screamed, ‘We won’t let you down like we did today! We’ll make you proud!’

                The rest of them had followed Yahaba’s example and bowed—though Kyoutani’s was more aimed at Iwaizumi than anyone else.

                The four third years had been in such a state of shock that they didn’t say anything straightaway. Then Iwaizumi, much too overwhelmed to control himself, rushed forward and pulled Yahaba into a bone-crushing hug.

                ‘What are you talking about?’ he had blubbered, crying again from just how _touched_ he was. ‘You’ve already made us proud, and you haven’t let us down. You never have and you never will!’

                That was all it took for the entire Seijou team to become a sobbing mess once more. Hanamaki and Matsukawa had chanted amidst tears, ‘We’re always proud of you, always!’ and Oikawa had, for the first time that day, let a couple of tears pass freely down his cheeks, crushing Kunimi and Watari in the tight hug he had brought them into.

                After they had all pulled apart, Oikawa had choked out, ‘Thank you for being the best team we’ve been a part of in the past three years. Thank you for letting me and Iwa-chan be your captains. Thank you for letting the four of us be your mentors. Don’t give up. Don’t ever give up. We’ll be cheering you on from the sidelines in the future, don’t you dare doubt that. You always will be Seijou’s best.’

                Peeking over at his alarm clock, Iwaizumi saw that it was well past one in the morning. But he couldn’t sleep. He was incredibly emotional over everything, but perhaps the one thing he was the most emotional over was not being able to play in the qualifying round for Nationals. All those years of practice, and not _once_ did they crush Shiratorizawa. Not once did they manage to wipe the vacant expression off Ushijima’s face and make him feel defeat for the first time in his volleyball career. It was up to Karasuno now to do that. _You better not let them win again, Karasuno!_

                He let out a chuckle.

                ‘The crows are flying again,’ he whispered.

                But the bitter feeling quickly returned. _Why couldn’t we beat them? You had them, Hajime. You_ had _them._

                Punching his pillow into shape—and getting some of his frustration out on it—Iwaizumi flopped back onto it, curling into himself.

_No use crying over it now. What’s done is done. Besides, you have classes tomorrow. Right. Sleep. Gotta sleep._

                But just as he closed his eyes, determined to get some rest before the school day began, Iwaizumi’s phone buzzed loudly on the surface of his bedside table. Grabbing it and cringing from the brightness as he unlocked it, Iwaizumi saw a text message pop up on his screen.

 

**Shittykawa [01:23]**

Hey Iwa-chan. You awake?

 

                Despite his sour mood, Iwaizumi’s scowl softened and the tension in his shoulders loosened. Rubbing his eyes and stifling a yawn, he opened the message and typed out a reply.

 

**Iwaizumi Hajime [01:24]**

yeah… kinda hard not to be

I see that you are

why?

**Shittykawa [01:24]**

Can I come in?

 

                Iwaizumi’s eyebrows rose in surprise. But then he smiled gently and replied quickly, bending into himself after he put his phone back in its original spot.

 

**Iwaizumi Hajime [01:25]**

you know where I am

lock the door behind you

 

                A couple of minutes later, Iwaizumi heard his bedroom door open, followed by a whisper of his name. Turning around, Iwaizumi squinted at the light that was coming in from the hallway, hissing at Oikawa to shut the door and get in already.

                ‘Did you lock the door?’ he whispered to him, watching as Oikawa quietly clicked the bedroom door shut.

                ‘Yeah. The key’s back under the mat, too.’

                Yawning widely, Iwaizumi shut his eyes and grumbled, ‘You just gonna stand there all night or are you coming?’

                Oikawa didn’t say anything, but Iwaizumi heard the swishing of clothes being removed and felt the mattress dip and the blanket pull back slightly as Oikawa slid in next to him. His skin radiated warmth against Iwaizumi’s, considering how close they were, but Iwaizumi tried to pay no mind it. He could hear his slow breathing, each deep exhale going through his nose.

                ‘Thanks for letting me come.’

                ‘You’re always welcome here,’ Iwaizumi mumbled, nuzzling his cheek into his pillow. ‘How many times do I have to tell you that?’

                Oikawa laughed delicately before falling silent for a moment. ‘You sound cute when you’re sleepy.’

                ‘I can kick you out right now, Oikawa.’

                ‘You’d be going against your own words if you did that,’ Oikawa told him smugly.

                ‘Go to sleep, Trashykawa.’

                ‘Can’t. Thinking too much.’

                Iwaizumi sighed. ‘Then stop thinking. You can think in the morning… and you know we have school tomorrow, right?’

                ‘Yeah, I know.’ He heard Oikawa blow out a puff of air. ‘But I didn’t want to be alone tonight… Didn’t like how we parted today. Don’t wanna think about the future yet. Just… the now would be great.’

                Iwaizumi breathed slowly out his nose and nudged Oikawa’s calf with his toes. ‘Go to sleep. There’s nothing to worry about.’

                He knew that Oikawa was referring to their talk about university after they had left their school’s gymnasium, after they had their last practice session with Hanamaki and Matsukawa.

                Oikawa shifted, the sheets rustling as he made himself comfortable. Iwaizumi, thinking Oikawa was falling asleep, allowed himself to start drifting off. But his eyes snapped open when Oikawa’s hands grasped one of his, bringing it close to his chest. Iwaizumi felt Oikawa’s heartbeat against his fingers, thrumming gently, lullingly. Oikawa’s breath was hot on his knuckles and Iwaizumi had the alarming realisation that they were close enough to kiss.

                His mind wandered back to the change room that one time after they had found Hanamaki and Matsukawa kissing in the change room, on the day they found out they were each other’s soulmates. This moment, however, was far more intimate than that one in the change room. They were in Iwaizumi’s bed, close enough to have their legs tangled and their hands holding the other’s waist, covered by the darkness and in their own little bubble that no one could pop.

                Iwaizumi’s second realisation was that, once again, he _wanted_ to kiss him. Oikawa’s lips were so tantalisingly close that Iwaizumi only had to tilt his head forward slightly and they would touch. God, had he fantasised about Oikawa’s kisses. How tender they would be first thing in the morning and the last thing before bed—exactly as they were now—how each one would be a whisper of love, how soft and pliant Oikawa’s lips would be against his…

                Oh, the things he would give for that to be a reality. But his bubble was violently burst at the harsh truth that he had forgotten about. Oikawa saw colour. He didn’t. Oikawa’s was not his to have, nor was he Oikawa’s to have.

                ‘Goodnight, Iwa-chan,’ Oikawa told him softly, bringing him out of his souring thoughts. His fingers curled firmer around Iwaizumi’s hand. ‘Sleep well.’

                Repeating the words back to him in the same low tone, Iwaizumi took in Oikawa’s peaceful face once he closed his eyes, before closing his own and letting sleep—out of pure physical and emotional exhaustion—overtake him.

                It would be only the next morning that Iwaizumi would come to the conclusion, with Oikawa’s arm draped over his stomach and his cheek pressed into his chest, snoring something fierce, that if he didn’t do something about his feelings for Oikawa soon… it would not end well.

                It was time to get over Oikawa Tooru for good.

 

* * *

 

 

                ‘Man, I still can’t believe they won.’

                Iwaizumi swivelled his chair around, tearing his gaze from his exercise book to land it on the mess on his bed that was Oikawa. He had taken off his glasses, having dumped them on Iwaizumi’s bedside table. An arm was over his eyes and Iwaizumi could see a deep pout gracing his mouth.

                ‘Yeah… they did.’ Iwaizumi snorted. ‘I bet Shiratorizawa are gonna be licking their wounds for months. Karasuno have improved since our first match with them.’

                ‘That annoys me. A lot. We practiced a lot too!’

                ‘You’re just being shitty now.’

                ‘What slander is this, Iwa-chan? I am nothing but kind!’

                Chuckling to himself, Iwaizumi returned to his homework.

                Oikawa had demanded to come over to Iwaizumi’s after the final match between Shiratorizawa and Karasuno—which they had skipped out on school for—on the condition that he was going to study and work on the huge amount of homework they had gotten that week. All of it, of course, was due on Monday, so they had their work cut out for them. Three hours had passed and Oikawa had only done half of it, choosing instead to sprawl on Iwaizumi’s bed, complaining every so often about the match.

                Iwaizumi didn’t mind. To be honest, he preferred Oikawa’s company over being alone today. He was in one of those moods where he didn’t want to be alone, and only Oikawa could get rid of it.

                ‘Hey… Hajime?’

                Swinging around once again, Iwaizumi’s heartbeat increased. Oikawa never used his first name unless it was something serious, or when being ironic. He could hear in Oikawa’s voice that this was not an occasion of irony: he pretended he wasn’t shocked, pulling a blank expression as he watched Oikawa sit up. He gazed at Iwaizumi intently, chewing on his lip.

                ‘Have you thought about it yet?’ he began, his voice hesitant. ‘You know… the thing?’

                Frowning at Oikawa’s subtlety—because Oikawa was never one to be subtle around him, or at all, come to that—Iwaizumi cocked his head to the side. Then when it dawned on him what Oikawa was getting at, he froze. He shook his head as a response.

                ‘Not yet,’ he told him. ‘Been too focused on the Spring Tournament to think about uni properly. I’ve told you this.’

                Oikawa hummed and fiddled with his fingers. When Iwaizumi asked if he had thought about it, he received a wry smile and a shake of the head. ‘Still not sure what I want to do, let alone where to go.’

                Nodding, Iwaizumi felt his stomach turn into a rock. He knew what Oikawa was really saying. He didn’t want to say anything because they both knew the truth: this would be the first time they’d be apart from each other. Being friends since they were kids only to part in adulthood… it seemed unnatural. It seemed wrong. Iwaizumi couldn’t believe he was thinking it, but he dreaded the thought of being away from his childhood friend. He knew it was inevitable, considering their options—considering the way _life_ was—but it didn’t make it any easier. It didn’t stop the clenching behind his ribs.

                The feeling of fear at the unknown and the future mixed in with Iwaizumi’s frustrations over losing against Karasuno—yes, they were still as strong as they had been at the end of the match—were not doing good things for his mental health. He was still furious at himself for not making that spike through, and in the process, letting down the entire team.

                _What kind of ace am I? What kind of vice-captain am I? Christ…_

                He went back to his exercise book. _I have to distract myself_ , he thought, punching numbers into his calculator. _Gotta clear my head before it goes somewhere where it’s not supposed to._

                Like “Oikawa’s soulmate” somewhere?

                Iwaizumi’s grip on his pen tightened. The very thought of Oikawa’s soulmate made his skin sting. He was being selfish, he knew that, but he knew Oikawa’s soulmate, whoever they were, were not meant for him. They wouldn’t be good enough. No one could be good enough for him.

_No one, ‘cept me._

                He knew he was supposed to be getting over Oikawa, but it was proving to be a lot harder in practice than in theory. He knew Oikawa better than anyone else. He knew all his secrets. He held all the memories they shared between them. He knew what made Oikawa tick. It was an ugly feeling, but Iwaizumi was incredibly jealous. He had the nasty thought that he was going to be replaced, and that just wouldn’t do.

                God, what if Oikawa already had plans with his soulmate for the future? Was Iwaizumi involved? Would he ever meet them? Would he be pushed back into the shadows?

                There was a soft _crack_ and Iwaizumi looked down to see a small break in the clear plastic of his pen. He let it drop on the desk.

                Then, before he could control his mouth, Iwaizumi said snidely, ‘What about your _soulmate?_ Where are they gonna go? You going with ‘em? Be all happy and shit?’

                There was a solid pause for at least half a minute. Iwaizumi had shocked himself with his words— _where did that come from, idiot?—_ and he was about to turn around and apologise when he heard Oikawa let out something close to an incredulous gasp.

                ‘That was awfully rude of you, Iwa-chan.’ Iwaizumi spun around in time to see him shake his head. ‘But to answer your question, I have no idea. He hasn’t told me yet. Been too busy thinking about other things. So I dunno if we’re going together and gonna be all “happy and shit”.’

                ‘“He?”’ His apology died on his tongue and he gaped at his friend. ‘Your soulmate’s a guy?’

                Oikawa blinked at him. ‘Yeah, so?’

_Great. It’s another boy. Another boy better than me to be good enough for Oikawa._

                ‘Just… odd, that’s all,’ was what he said out loud, waving a hand as he did so. ‘Didn’t think your soulmate would be a guy. Thought it would be one of those fangirls of yours.’

                A harsh laugh escaped Oikawa’s mouth. ‘Yeah, right. If that were the case, I’d be with one of them right now instead of here with you, wouldn’t I?’

                ‘I dunno, Oikawa, would you? Why aren’t you with them right now? Why are you wasting your time with me when you can be with them?’ Iwaizumi muttered.

                Jealously crawled up from his stomach to his chest, spreading all across his ribs and claiming his heart. Or was it anger? Or both? Iwaizumi didn’t know, but he didn’t like the way it was consuming him so quickly, or how irritated he was getting.

                Oikawa was silent, and that made Iwaizumi’s strange, bubbling feeling begin to boil. He didn’t know why he was getting so angry, and why that jealously was feeding it. Maybe it was because of Karasuno, or maybe it was because he wasn’t Oikawa’s soulmate, or maybe Oikawa wasn’t being truthful with him—maybe it was a combination. But Oikawa not being straight with him was the one thing that had infuriated Iwaizumi in the past, and there he was, doing it again.

                He knew he was hiding something, but he wanted to see if he could get it out of Oikawa without being blunt about it.

                Oikawa opened his mouth once, twice, before saying softly, ‘Well… if you really want to know…’

                It threw Iwaizumi off guard for a moment. Oikawa was never this quiet, or this nervous. Oikawa was known out of the both of them for being assertive and not shying away from his thoughts.

_What is going on?_

                ‘Yeah, I do.’

                Oikawa looked him straight in the eye. ‘I’d rather be here. Simple as that. You’re my best friend… we understand each other. Always have and always will. But what I don’t get right now is why you’re so pissed off with me—’

                Iwaizumi’s chair flew away from him as he stood up, glaring heavily at his friend. ‘Don’t use your tactical bullshit on me, Oikawa! Can’t you give me a straight answer for once in your life?’

                Oikawa stood up as well. His forehead was creased with fine lines and his eyes flared. ‘I am giving you a straight answer. You’re just not listening to me.’ He scoffed. ‘Why do you care so much, anyway? I just said I’d rather be here. What use are those girls to me when I have you? Why are you so worked up, Iwa-chan?’

                ‘Why do I care?’ Iwaizumi wanted to tear his hair out, but instead, he thrusted a finger in Oikawa’s chest. ‘Because you’re my best fucking friend, arsehole! I thought we were past the point of hiding shit from each other! After all this time, I thought you’d be honest with me, and not… bullshit your way through telling the truth. And while we’re on the topic, why didn’t you tell me you could see colour? Why didn’t you tell me who your soulmate is? In fact… how come Makki and Mattsun know and I don’t?’

                Oikawa visibly blanched.

                Iwaizumi recalled a conversation that had been had earlier that day, where Hanamaki had asked Oikawa how his soulmate troubles were going. Iwaizumi had been so surprised at his question that he couldn’t even scold Oikawa at that point for keeping the secret from him. He had stared at his friends, asking himself if they knew everything, especially once Matsukawa got involved as well. Oikawa had brushed them off, saying, ‘Still in the works, but I’ll get there!’ and that had made Iwaizumi very suspicious.

                It was enough to send warning flags flying in Iwaizumi’s direction. Then those horrible thoughts had barged into his head. _Why don’t_ I _know about this? Why didn’t Oikawa tell me first? Why do Mattsun and Makki know something as important as this about Oikawa… and I don’t? I thought I was his best friend…_

_Does he not trust me anymore?_

                Perhaps that was the underlying notion to what was happening now. Perhaps Oikawa didn’t trust Iwaizumi with important life decisions anymore, hence why he didn’t know who Oikawa’s soulmate was, why Oikawa was being subtle earlier, and why he couldn’t give Iwaizumi a straight answer.

                Oh, he really didn’t like this feeling.

                He stared as Oikawa opened and closed his mouth like a fish, clearly searching for something to say—something _other_ than the truth. Iwaizumi found himself feeling even more untrusted and, as a result, upset. To think that Oikawa—his Oikawa, best friend Oikawa, thick-and-thin Oikawa—didn’t trust _him_ enough anymore to tell him anything about this—let alone try and cover it up with some lame excuse—made Iwaizumi’s heart tug at its strings, cracking in half at how used he felt.

                Then came Oikawa’s answer, and Iwaizumi thought that he would never, ever, have faith in his answers again.

                ‘T-They… They don’t know _who_ it is, just that I’m having trouble telling him—and besides, you wouldn’t have believed me if I told you! You wouldn’t have believed me if I said who it was!’ Oikawa blurted out.

                There was a moment’s pause.

_You lying fucker._

                ‘Really? That’s the excuse you’re going with?’

                ‘What do you want from me, Iwa?’ Oikawa asked him, and the fact that Iwaizumi could hear exasperation in his tone made his hands curl into fists by his side—though given the right timing, they would find themselves in Oikawa’s face. ‘It’s the truth.’

                ‘I want you to be real with me!’ Iwaizumi growled out. ‘What happened to us not holding anything back, huh? You’re _lying_ , Oikawa. I can see right through you!’

                Iwaizumi lost focus for a split second when his back suddenly met the wall as Oikawa, maddened, shoved him against it. His hands made fists in Iwaizumi’s hoodie, bringing them up to the bottom of his chin; his knuckles were hard against the sensitive skin and Iwaizumi found it hard to swallow. Oikawa’s mouth had thinned and there was a fire in his eyes as they roved over Iwaizumi’s features. He stared right back, his own rage continuing to build up inside him.

                ‘If you can see right through me, Hajime,’ Oikawa snarled, ‘then you already know what the problem is!’

                His own hands grabbing onto Oikawa’s jacket, Iwaizumi hissed, ‘I’m not a fucking mind-reader, _Tooru_. I know you expect me to know everything off the bat, but what’s in your head is not something I can just know! So stop being a shit and just tell me. What is your problem, who is your soulmate and why didn’t you tell me about them the day you found them?’

                The next thing Iwaizumi knew was pain erupting on the back of his head as it hit the wall. The second thing he knew was that there was another mouth on his.

                Wait.

_Oikawa…?_

                The breath was knocked out of him at Oikawa’s lips on his, which Oikawa took advantage of immediately. Hungry and desperate, his hands let go of Iwaizumi’s hoodie and, instead, tilted Iwaizumi’s head higher by his jaw, strong palms assertive in their movement as lips returned to lips. His fingertips dug into the base of Iwaizumi’s skull, sending pricks of both pain and heat all down Iwaizumi’s spine. Grabbing onto Oikawa’s bony wrists, Iwaizumi, too overwhelmed to think of anything remotely rational, kissed him back as his eyes fluttered shut.

                His chest exploded, his lungs burned and his heart lodged itself in his throat. That feeling that had come and gone as it pleased as a child, that same feeling of belonging and stability, of butterflies, pounded away in his stomach and in his chest. It was everywhere all at once, far more intense than when he was a child, or when he had held Oikawa’s hands when he had injured his knee.

                Fuck, even his fantasises of kissing Oikawa were subpar compared to this. Every nerve ending tingled, and every touch felt a thousand times more sensitive, more real, against his skin. He had made fun of Oikawa earlier for spraying himself with a flowery kind of cologne—‘Who’re you tryna impress?’ he had teased—but as it invaded his nose, Iwaizumi thought how he couldn’t possibly wear anything else.

                Oikawa’s hands travelled down to Iwaizumi’s waist, gripping it tightly as his mouth worked with his, kissing him harder and harder as the seconds went by, parting Iwaizumi’s lips with an expertise neither knew he possessed. Iwaizumi couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t make head or tail of what was going on. All he could understand was the searing heat where Oikawa touched him, held him… loved him. He reciprocated in full, trailing his hands up into Oikawa’s hair, brushing against the strong line of his jaw. He shivered at how _soft_ it was—but he should have realised, for this was Oikawa—his digits carding through the strands as he brought Oikawa closer.

                Iwaizumi slanted his head to the side in order to kiss him deeper. His response was a soft groan and he was pressed further into the wall as Oikawa got rid of any possible space that had been between them, a hand returning to Iwaizumi’s cheek. It was only Oikawa pressing him against the wall. Only Oikawa’s hand cupping his face. Only Oikawa’s thumbs brushing his cheek.

                Only Oikawa.

                They exchanged a few more kisses before Oikawa planted one, last soft one, choosing instead to lean his forehead against Iwaizumi’s. Their pants mingled as they caught their breaths; Iwaizumi could feel the little puffs against his prickling lips. Oikawa stayed there for a moment, then slowly pulled away, taking every ounce of heat Iwaizumi had had against him away.

                Everything Iwaizumi had against Oikawa disappeared. All the pieces had fallen into place, and he couldn’t believe it.

                It was _him_. He was the soulmate.

                Iwaizumi kept his eyes shut for a moment longer. He was scared to be faced with the truth, because god, did he want to see colour. He wanted to see Oikawa in colour. He wanted to be absolutely certain that he was Oikawa’s soulmate, because Iwaizumi couldn’t think of any other reason why Oikawa would kiss him like he had just done if he had another person as a soulmate.

                He _needed_ it more than anything he ever needed in his life.

                Sucking in a breath, Iwaizumi opened his eyes.

                ‘So… Did that answer all your questions, Hajime?’ Oikawa whispered forlornly; he paused, and then added, ‘Still nothing, huh?’

                _Why… Why?_

Iwaizumi resisted with every bit of energy he had not to burst into tears. Oikawa looked exactly the same as before. Black, white, with grey filling the gaps. There was not a single other colour to be seen, not even a spot.

                _But… there has to be! Who else could it_ possibly _be? There’s no one else!_

                Doing the only thing that came to mind, Iwaizumi grabbed Oikawa and slammed their mouths together again. His stomach burst once more with the feeling of his childhood, but it returned tenfold, crawling into every limb and crevice of his body. It hurt him, hurt him like the fingertips that dug into his wrists, hurt him like the teeth that pulled his bottom lip, hurt him like the hole that was slowly being scored in his heart.

                This was the only reality Iwaizumi wanted to know. He and Oikawa were _right_. They were soulmates.

                _Soulmates…_

                Opening his eyes, Iwaizumi set his jaw. Still grey. Still fucking grey. So he kissed him again.

                And again. And again.

                _PLEASE._

                ‘Iwa—Iwa. Stop.’

                His hands gripped Oikawa’s jacket. He glowered at the buttons of his shirt, unable to look him in the eye. _What is the matter with me? Why can’t I fucking see colour? Where are they? Huh? Why can’t I see my soulmate? Oikawa is my soulmate!_

 _He_ has _to be._

                ‘Why?’ he murmured, still avoiding looking at Oikawa’s face. ‘Why can’t I see them? There’s no one else who could possibly be… It can only be you.’

                Oikawa let out a shaky puff of air. ‘Clearly we’re not destined to be together…’

                Iwaizumi snapped his head to gape at him. Oikawa’s eyes had gone dull.

                ‘No… don’t say that.’

                ‘But it’s true! If we were meant to be, then you’d see something, wouldn’t you?’

                Oikawa moved away properly, forcing Iwaizumi’s hands to part from his jacket. An ugly feeling shattered his core when Oikawa gazed at him through glazed eyes, allowing a couple of tears to drip from his eyelashes. His voice was a mere whisper when he spoke again.

                ‘I love you, Hajime, and as far as I’m concerned, my heart belongs to you. But does yours belong to me?’

                ‘I…’

                Of course it does, he wanted to yell at him. _Of course it belongs to you, you idiot!_ Iwaizumi’s voice, however, seemed to have died in his throat. There was so much he wanted to say, to admit, to put his heart on his sleeve and give it to Oikawa because it was his to have, of course it was. Iwaizumi hated how weak he had become in the matter of minutes, for not even being able to physically say the words he had been wanting to say to Oikawa for months, years…

                Where was that strong Iwaizumi? Where was that boy who scolded Oikawa for being stupid? For having no common sense? For even _suggesting_ such a moronic idea about Iwaizumi not returning his feelings? For even thinking that they weren’t meant to be together?

                Where had he gone?

_What is happening to me?_

                Iwaizumi’s silence, however, appeared to be an answer for Oikawa. He nodded slowly, sniffling and not bothering to wipe his face as he turned to Iwaizumi’s bed. He began to pack his things and Iwaizumi merely watched, unable to move, unable to protest and keep Oikawa there with him—where he _belonged._ He stayed in his spot against the wall, hands curled by his sides, eyes swimming. But nothing fell. Nothing showed on his face other than a fierce scowl and glistening eyes.

                Slinging his bag onto his back, Oikawa didn’t lift his gaze to meet Iwaizumi’s, choosing instead to look down at his socks.

                ‘I’ll see you on Monday. Take care of yourself in the meantime, yeah?’

                He turned and left without another word, and without waiting for Iwaizumi to answer, shutting the door of the bedroom with a soft _click._

                It was a full five minutes before Iwaizumi made a sound or moved. Five minutes he stood there, trembling, anger and disappointment and sheer misery fuelling him to the very tips of his nails and strands of hair. He was mostly angry, at himself, at the world, at this fucking thing called _fate_ and _destiny_. He wanted to break something. He wanted to scream until his throat was painful and raw. He wanted to punch something until his knuckles were bleeding.

                But all he did was slide down the wall and curl into a ball. Everything that had been held back fell fast down his face, hot and stinging, going down the plane of his nose and dripping off his chin. He couldn’t help the way his throat constricted, the way his hands clutched his hair, the way his body shook from how hard he was crying—he couldn’t stop the loud sobs that came rushing past his lips, even when his mother came hurrying into his room, asking him what on earth had just happened, why did Tooru-kun leave so suddenly? He cried and cried and cried as his mother held him, as her fingers stroked his hair and as she rocked him gently against her. He choked out how unfair it all was—it’s so unfair, Mum, so unfair! His heart was crushed, split into a thousand, frayed pieces. His lungs gave up on him, tightening painfully as he struggled to breathe.

                Oikawa was all that was on his mind.

                Oikawa.

                Oikawa.

                Oikawa.

_Please… come back. I need to tell you. I love you._

_I love you. I fucking love you, you shitty arsehole._

_Fuck fate and fuck destiny. Fuck colour, fuck my pride and fuck everything else._

_I_ love _you._

_Please…_

                It began to storm outside, in true spring fashion, rain smashing itself against Iwaizumi’s bedroom window. If Iwaizumi had noticed, he would have scoffed at the whole fucking cliché, but all he did was hold onto his mother and let her soothing words overtake him.

 

* * *

 

Glowering over his breakfast the next morning, Iwaizumi felt drained. The events of the previous night still plagued his mind, and his mouth dried at the reoccurring image of Oikawa’s miserable face. He sighed heavily and buried his face in his hands.

                ‘Hajime.’

                Letting out a groan in response, Iwaizumi heard his mother’s soft footfalls get louder as she got closer to him. He felt her hand rub his shoulder and he lifted his face from his palms to stare at her. He could see that she was worried, for he hadn’t explained anything when she had found him on the floor in his bedroom. He had been so upset that she merely sent him to bed, only for him to sob himself into a restless sleep.

                ‘You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,’ she began, her voice gentle and calm, the kind that made Iwaizumi’s bones melt, ‘but what happened last night? I’ve never seen you like that before.’

                Grasping the hand on his shoulder, Iwaizumi held it tightly. Where should he begin? There was so much to explain, so much to tell… This was over ten years of things to explain.

                ‘It’s complicated.’

                ‘I can do complicated, Hajime.’ She brushed a finger over his cheek, sending him a small smile. ‘I’m your mother.’

                It was amazing how his mother could make him feel relaxed in a matter of seconds, for the next thing he knew, everything came out of Iwaizumi. His walls had crumbled, and he held nothing back. He told her about the feeling in his stomach that had overtaken him as a child, how it erupted upon meeting Oikawa and how it returned after nearly a decade when Oikawa injured his knee. He poured out to her his sorrow after their loss to Karasuno, his feelings of disappointment in himself for not succeeding with that _damn perfect spike_. When it came to the argument he had with Oikawa, his voice died in his throat—but he managed to tell her about it, what it led to, and how they weren’t meant to be.

                Iwaizumi nearly started crying again at the thought.

                _Be strong! You’re better than this…_

                Once he was done, Iwaizumi felt lighter, but still incredibly blue. There was a moment’s pause as, no doubt, Iwaizumi’s mother processed everything. He simply sagged in his seat, fatigue creeping into every section of his body. God, he missed Oikawa. He didn’t like it when they fought, or when they parted on bad terms. It wasn’t right.

                None of this was right.

                ‘So…Tooru-kun believes you’re his soulmate, yes?’ his mother asked, and when Iwaizumi nodded, she said, ‘but you can’t see colour?’

                Iwaizumi shook his head, and his voice caught. ‘I want to _so_ bad, Mum.’

                God, did he want to…

                His mother frowned deeply and chewed on her lip, all the while staring at him. He raised an eyebrow in response. Iwaizumi knew that look. That was her thinking face.

                ‘Right. Get your shoes on,’ she said as she got to her feet. ‘We’re off to visit the doctor.’

                ‘I—Doctor?’

                ‘Yes, the doctor.’

                ‘Why?’

                To say Iwaizumi was confused would be an understatement. He gaped at his mother, wondering how anything he told her had anything to do with a doctor. She gazed at him, a strained smile on her face. It just made Iwaizumi more puzzled. _What’s she thinking?_

                ‘If it’s what I think it is… it would be better to get a professional’s understanding of it,’ his mother said softly. ‘It’s rare… but it can be genetic as well. Your father’s grandfather had it, but it skipped your grandfather and father both, so it’s possible that you’ve got it.’

                ‘Got… what?’

                Iwaizumi was scared of what “it” could be, but when his mother uttered the phrase, his heart skipped a beat. Of course… it made perfect sense!

                ‘Now, don’t get too worked up about it,’ she told him sternly, ushering him out into the corridor with her hands. ‘It’s just a possibility.’

                But it was a possibility that Iwaizumi was clinging onto. In most other cases, the person would be terribly upset at the news—but for him, it was a case of hope. It was hope that he and Oikawa were, perhaps, meant to be after all.

 

* * *

 

The doctor had, in fact, confirmed Iwaizumi’s mother’s suspicions. Iwaizumi had sat in the chair, letting the words wash over him as the doctor explained the finer details, such as how it was normal for it to skip a few generations and how there were other ways to work out soulmateships. All he could think about was _this is it. This is the missing link._

                When he and his mother left the doctor’s office that afternoon, Iwaizumi’s world finally started to make sense. While he wasn’t one-hundred-percent happy about it, it was better than being in the dark. It was looking good. No, it was _great_. It was fantastic! He couldn’t hold back his excitement as he got out his phone and texted his friend.

**Iwaizumi Hajime [16:34]**

Oikawa call me

you’re not gonna believe this

 

* * *

 

Monday morning rolled in and Iwaizumi wasn’t happy. Not because it was a Monday—although it being a Monday didn’t exactly help—but because of Oikawa.

                Watching as his classmates filed into the classroom, Iwaizumi kept checking his phone to see if Oikawa had replied. He, of course, hadn’t, and Iwaizumi dropped his phone on his desk in annoyance.

                It wasn’t like Oikawa to not reply to his messages… especially since he had left him quite a few. And had called him. Many times. But still, no response, no “Sorry Iwa-chan! My phone died!” Nothing.

                But more than being annoyed, Iwaizumi was worried. Was Oikawa okay? Did their argument make Oikawa not want to speak to Iwaizumi anymore? Was he sick? Was he late? Was he asleep? What was going on?

                The bell rang loud and clear, signalling the beginning of lessons. Iwaizumi would just have to wait until the break and see if Oikawa would show his face. During his class, however, Iwaizumi could not concentrate on the algorithms that were being scribbled on the board, nor what his sensei was explaining to them. It wandered to Oikawa, and to the news he wanted to tell him _so_ badly. Fuck, it would change everything, Iwaizumi knew that. All he needed first was Oikawa’s undivided attention.

                By the time the break came around, Iwaizumi’s mind was totally focused on his best friend—so much so that he didn’t notice Hanamaki and Matsukawa come in.

                ‘Hey, Iwaizumi.’

                ‘Yoo-hoo, Iwaizumi!’

                ‘Hey.’

                ‘Iwa-chan!’

                Iwaizumi's head snapped up to see his two friends looking down at him in surprise.

                ‘Oh, hey guys.’

                ‘Wow… he responded to “Iwa-chan”,’ Hanamaki murmured, taking a seat next to Iwaizumi as Matsukawa sat opposite them both. ‘It must be a bad day.’

                Sighing through his nose, Iwaizumi whispered, ‘I’m worried.’

                ‘About?’ Matsukawa asked, taking out his lunchbox and placing it in front of him.

                ‘Oikawa.’

                When all he was met with were two, blank faces, Iwaizumi explained how Oikawa hadn’t replied to any of his messages and merely _hinted_ at the disagreement they had the other night. Hanamaki and Matsukawa seemed unsurprised at this information and reassured Iwaizumi that Oikawa was probably cooling off and that his phone had probably died. That, and he was running late to school.

                Not wanting to seem too much like a worrywart any longer, Iwaizumi agreed and listened as his friends ranted about their morning classes.

                He truly hoped everything was okay.

 

* * *

 

Matsukawa and Hanamaki ended up being wrong.

                Oikawa never replied, and Iwaizumi felt sick to the stomach. It was now Friday afternoon, and Oikawa not only hadn’t replied to any of Iwaizumi’s messages or unanswered calls, but he hadn’t been at school. A couple of days of being away was normal, and Oikawa had done it in the past… but a whole week?

                Something was definitely wrong.

                _Where the fuck are you, Crappykawa?_

                Walking along the path towards home, Iwaizumi felt his phone vibrate against his leg. Fishing it out of his pocket, he saw messages from Hanamaki and Matsukawa engulf his screen. Opening their group chat—nicknamed _Four Wild Seijous_ , paying homage to Iwaizumi’s nature-show talk—Iwaizumi resisted the urge to roll his eyes in exasperation.

 

**Issei_Mattsun**

Oikawaaaaaaaaa

**Makki_Tana**

Oikawaaaaaaaaaaa

Iwa’s sad because you’re not with him

**Issei_Mattsun**

he’s lonely and needs a hug

he’s pining after you

**Makki_Tana**

hey Oikawa, where the fuck are you?

**Issei_Mattsun**

it’s been a week, why aren’t you in school?

**Makki_Tana**

bitch reply

 

                Shaking his head, Iwaizumi began to type. Might as well engage and keep his worry at bay for the time being, right?

 

**Iwaizumi Hajime**

guys

he hasn’t replied to any of my messages

what makes you think he’s gonna reply here?

**Makki_Tana**

it’s worth a try ain’t it?

**Issei_Mattsun**

better than sitting around moping all day

like you

**Iwaizumi Hajime**

oh fuck off

like you wouldn’t do the same if it was Makki

**Issei_Mattsun**

touché

**Makki_Tana**

never mind that right now though

you never actually told us

what exactly did you do Iwa?

**Issei_Mattsun**

Oikawa do we need to beat Iwa up?

**Makki_Tana**

do we need him to do a ramen run as punishment?

**Iwaizumi Hajime**

fuck you guys

but to answer your question…

it’s more what I haven’t done

**Issei_Mattsun**

?

the fuck you on about?

**Iwaizumi Hajime**

it’s not exactly in my control okay?

**Makki_Tana**

I am… confusion

**Issei_Mattsun**

same

did you forget to pick him up or something?

**Iwaizumi Hajime**

/how/ is that relevant?

Oikawa doesn’t need picking up from anywhere!

neither of us can drive, idiot

**Issei_Mattsun**

alright geez

so rude

**Makki_Tana**

maybe that’s why Oikawa’s angry

cuz someone’s a shithead

**Issei_Mattsun**

you need to be taught some manners

dickhead

**Iwaizumi Hajime**

I hate you guys

you’re dead to me

 

                Iwaizumi scowled at his screen, tutting loudly. ‘This is the last time I’m telling them anything,’ he muttered under his breath. ‘Bastards.’

 

**Issei_Mattsun**

you know we love you Iwa

**Iwaizumi Hajime**

yeah yeah

**Makki_Tana**

especially when you give us food

**Iwaizumi Hajime**

if you keep going like this

you won’t be getting any more

**Makki_Tana**

gASP

Iwa you’re mean!

Mattsun tell him off!

 

                Closing the chat and locking his phone, Iwaizumi gazed at his surroundings. He let out a heavy sigh and let his eyes rove over the store fronts as he passed them by. He wondered if there was such a thing as your soul being infected, because everything in his body hurt. His head hurt. His heart hurt.

                Everything hurt when he thought about Oikawa. Why was he acting like this? Did he hate Iwaizumi that much? His hands turned into fists as he shoved them into his pockets, biting his cheek to stop himself from screaming out loud in frustration.

                He swore that one of these days, Oikawa was going to be the death of him.

 

* * *

 

By the time Iwaizumi had gotten home, had dinner and gotten his homework out to complete, it was half-past seven. It marked five days, two hours and fifty-six minutes since Iwaizumi had first messaged Oikawa, and since Oikawa had started to not reply.

                Twirling his pen between his fingers, computer on and textbooks open in front of him, Iwaizumi tried to focus on the Maths exercise he was supposed to do for Monday. But no matter what he tried to do, he couldn’t get Oikawa out of his head. Chucking his pen in defeat, he ran his hands over his face, determined to rid his thoughts of his bloody friend.

                But no such thing was going to occur for a soft _ping_ came from his computer. Looking up, he saw the bar from _Four Wild Seijous_ flashing repeatedly and, clicking on it, he froze when he saw Oikawa’s name appear.

 

**Oi-Oi-Oikawa**

Heyyyyyyyy sorry for not being on!

I had someone over ^ ^

And no, you don’t need to beat Iwa up, there’s no reason to

 

                Iwaizumi’s blood went cold. Had someone over? What did that mean?

                _Like… a girl? Someone else other than me?_ He quickly shook his head to get rid of that thought. _He wouldn’t stoop that low… I mean, he’s Oikawa. He can be an arsehole, but he wouldn’t do something like that. Plus, you’re his soulmate, remember?_

He went back to the chat, leaning back in his chair. Once he saw Hanamaki’s username typing away, followed closely behind by Matsukawa’s, Iwaizumi wondered if those two ever did any study or if they just spent their days glued to the group chat, sending memes and horrible photos of them at any given opportunity.

 

**Makki_Tana**

someone?

**Issei_Mattsun**

had someone over you say?

**Makki_Tana**

well this is interesting

**Issei_Mattsun**

did you fuck?

**Oi-Oi-Oikawa**

Mattsun!! You’re so vulgar omg

And no we didn’t, it was my sister!

Geez, you’re gross

**Issei_Mattsun**

shit sorry

**Makki_Tana**

LOL

**Oi-Oi-Oikawa**

Anyway, I’ll be back at school on Monday :)

Just been a little sick and Mum wanted me to stay home in case it got serious

I’m fine, honestly!

There’s nothing wrong between Iwa and me either, so he can chill out

**Iwaizumi Hajime**

so why haven’t you answered or returned any of my calls?

 

                The muscles in his jaw popped out as he read the messages on his screen. He reread the ones from Oikawa and his blood bubbled under his skin. To think that Oikawa was acting as if nothing had happened between them… It had been a week—a fucking week! Five days, two hours and fifty-six minutes—because Iwaizumi had obviously _not_ been counting. Yet there he was, talking like their kiss never happened, like their friendship wasn’t on the verge of ruin, like he hadn’t ignored him all this damn time… like he hadn’t broken his heart.

                It maddened him.

 

**Makki_Tana**

umm

**Issei_Mattsun**

guys /what/ happened between you two?

**Oi-Oi-Oikawa**

Nothing

I just said that there’s nothing wrong, didn’t I?

**Iwaizumi Hajime**

so why aren’t you talking to me?

**Oi-Oi-Oikawa**

I am talking to you

**Iwaizumi Hajime**

if you were, then you’d pick up your phone when I call you

wouldn’t you?

**Oi-Oi-Oikawa**

I’m sorry??

**Iwaizumi Hajime**

yeah right

you know what

I don’t care anymore

do what you want

**Issei_Mattsun**

whoa

hold up

**Makki_Tana**

Iwa hey

that was uncalled for

**Iwaizumi Hajime**

uncalled for?

I’ll give you uncalled for

he thinks he can just leave me in the lurch

making me worried sick for a fucking week

and then act as if nothing is wrong?

he thinks that he knows everything about my side of things?

well, if he picked up his phone

he might have found out that there’s a fucking reason why I am not like other people

that there’s an explanation

and that despite it all, the way I feel doesn’t change??

that what happened between us at my place was genuine??

but no

he’s being a child that thinks they know everything and doesn’t care what other people think

so fuck his feelings for once

he can learn to survive on his own

**Oi-Oi-Oikawa**

Iwa, I can explain

**Iwaizumi Hajime**

no fuck you Tooru

go to hell

I’m done with you

**Makki_Tana**

oh god

he used the Tooru

**Issei_Mattsun**

yo hey Iwa!

**[Iwaizumi Hajime is offline]**

**Issei_Mattsun**

get back here you shit!

okay what the fuck happened?

**Makki_Tana**

start talking Oikawa

**Oi-Oi-Oikawa**

I’m going to bed… talk to you later…

**Issei_Mattsun**

it’s not even 8…???

**[Oi-Oi-Oikawa is offline]**

**Makki_Tana**

OI

**Issei_Mattsun**

OI

**Makki_Tana**

well that fucking worked

**Issei_Mattsun**

did we just witness a lover’s spat?

**Makki_Tana**

I think we did…

but why do I think that this isn’t one of their usual arguments?

**Issei_Mattsun**

you think they’ve broken up for real this time?

**Makki_Tana**

get on our usual chat

now

 

* * *

 

Pain. All he knew was pain.

                Iwaizumi had gone so blank after he had closed the group chat that he could no longer think straight. He had no idea how long he had sat at his desk for. His homework lay forgotten, and it was only when his mother came to say goodnight that he came back to reality. It had gone past eleven, so he quickly wished her goodnight, plastering on a smile so she wouldn’t get suspicious, and got ready for bed.

                Now that he was in it, everything came pouring out. Fast tears went down his face as his hands grabbed his sheets, fingers curling into them. Iwaizumi glared at the ceiling, struggling to get his emotions in order. He felt a twinge of guilt from what he had said to Oikawa, but he knew the little bastard had deserved it. It had been an _entire_ week of ignorance… and for what?

                He was furious, for how dare Oikawa pretend like nothing had happened? It was obvious they had feelings for each other— _deep_ feelings, feelings that were _returned_ in every single way possible, so much so that even the universe had brought them together. So how couldn’t Oikawa see that? How could he brush aside Iwaizumi’s feelings like that, as if they were nothing?

                Bringing his hands to his face, Iwaizumi growled loudly into them.

                But then the anger melted away and was replaced with that gnawing, aching feeling of his heart shattering. Oikawa’s ignorance had left him feeling lost. He started to question everything about their friendship and the more he thought about it, the more tears wanted to escape and the more sobs wanted to come out.

                The more his news became worthless.

A clear buzz snapped him out of his thoughts. Reaching over to his bedside table, Iwaizumi grabbed his phone and frowned at the messages that were appearing on his screen. He grimaced as he opened them and read them.

 

**Shittykawa [23:34]**

Iwa, I’m so, so, so sorry!

**Shittykawa [23:36]**

I can explain… I promise I can!

It’ll sound like I’m making excuses, but I promise I’m not

**Shittykawa [23:37]**

Please… I’m so sorry ; A ;

**Shittykawa [23:39]**

I know it’s late and it’s been a few hours but…

Please Hajime

Let me explain

 

                Iwaizumi considered sending a reply. He really did. But then all the fear he had felt all that week came back full force and he found himself thinking, _you ignored me for an entire week, Oikawa, and now you expect me to forgive you off the bat? You toyed with me… And what took you three hours in order to send me this? Well guess what? Now it’s your turn._

                So without another moment’s hesitation, Iwaizumi closed the messages and dumped his phone back where it had been. Turning onto his other side, he tried to block out the ceaseless vibrating notifications, choosing instead to grip his sheets and bring them to his chin, allowing a couple more, final tears to roll past the bridge of his nose.

                Two could play at that game, and Iwaizumi was going to give it to him in full.

 

* * *

 

(Back home in Oikawa’s bedroom, the boy held his phone with shaking hands, waiting patiently for Iwaizumi’s reply. He, too, was crying, sobbing quietly to himself as he realised the terrible thing he had done.)

 

* * *

 

Out of all the days in that week following their blowout, Monday had been the worst one.

                True to his word, Iwaizumi didn’t reply to a single one of Oikawa’s messages, nor did he see him at school—but if he did, he promptly went in the opposite direction. During recess and lunch, Iwaizumi spent his time in his classroom or wandering around in the corridors. Whenever he saw them, he spoke very briefly to Hanamaki and Matsukawa, but Iwaizumi had, more or less, spent his week ignoring Oikawa alone.

                On that Monday morning, when Iwaizumi saw Oikawa waiting to go into his classroom, he had merely looked away, heading straight for his own room. He knew that if he had turned around, he would have seen Oikawa’s dejected expression—but no. He deserved it. He had brought it upon himself.

                But it had been very difficult not to go up to Oikawa, wrangle him first and kiss him second. It took everything inside of Iwaizumi to stop himself from engaging with Oikawa. It was time he had a taste of his own medicine. Iwaizumi was fed up with not having his feelings being taken into consideration.

                He avoided Oikawa for the rest of the week, but it was by far the hardest thing he had ever had to do. Oikawa was _everywhere_ , from the corridors to the lockers, from the school grounds to the volleyball court—it was impossible not to go somewhere without Oikawa being there. But Iwaizumi managed not to speak to him or make any eye contact whatsoever.

                The tension between him and Oikawa was noticeable, to say the least, especially to their juniors in the volleyball team. The now retired third years had decided to stick around and help their juniors practice for the next year. When they had opened their mouths to ask what the matter was, they were told to leave it by Hanamaki when Iwaizumi had promptly left the gymnasium just as Oikawa was setting his bag down.

                New-captain of Seijou volleyball team Yahaba had been the only one brave enough to go against Hanamaki and ask Iwaizumi what on earth was going on. His answer had been a half-hearted, ‘Don’t wanna talk about it. Oikawa’s a shithead.’

                Hanamaki and Matsukawa had attempted to get Iwaizumi and Oikawa to talk throughout the week as well. There were several instances were either one or both of them had come up to Iwaizumi, demanding, ‘Go and talk to him! For god’s sake, you’re both so _petty!_ Talk, dammit!’

                But talk they did not.

                The messages hadn’t stopped either. Iwaizumi’s phone was constantly vibrating with Oikawa’s pleas for him to reply. Whenever he read them, Iwaizumi had muttered under his breath, ‘You did the same to me. You’re in _my_ shoes now,’ before putting his phone back into his pocket or on the surface of his desk.

                His parents had commented on his sour mood on the Thursday afternoon when he had come home from school. His mother, confused as to why her son and his soulmate were not together, had bought up the question, ‘Where is Tooru-kun? You haven’t spoken of him all week!’ His father, too, had stated, ‘You look tired, son… What’s been going on?’ He didn’t know how to answer them, so he settled with a, ‘Everything’s fine. Don’t worry,’ before going to his bedroom and locking the door, trying to keep the tears in.

                He wouldn’t cry. He was done crying.

                But the messages kept coming.

 

* * *

 

**Shittykawa [Mon, 12:30]**

Iwa-chan…

Why did you ignore me outside my classroom this morning?

Can we talk… please?

I’m sorry…

 

**Shittykawa [21:45]**

Iwa, please

I know I fucked up

Please, I want to explain

 

**Shittykawa [Tues, 14:34]**

I see you sitting by yourself in your classroom

Can you come outside so we can talk?

Iwa-chan, I hate this

I don’t like us being like this

Please…

 

**Shittykawa [Wed, 02:29]**

I can’t sleep

Where did we go wrong?

Is it that you don’t want to be near me because you can’t see colour?

**Shittykawa [02:30]**

No that’s stupid

**Shittykawa [02:31]**

You’re angry with me because I’m a dickhead

**Shittykawa [02:33]**

I want to explain

Please

 

**Shittykawa [18:45]**

Iwa-chan, it’s been five days!

This is really petty of you D:<

I know I’m one to talk, but you’re the civil one in this relationship

Talk to me or I’ll call your mother

I will

Don’t think I won’t

 

**Shittykawa [20:14]**

Well played, Iwa-chan…

Well played

 

**Shittykawa [Thurs, 16:53]**

I miss you

Please talk to me

I want to say sorry to your face

 

**Shittykawa [Fri, 03:01]**

Hajime

Hajime, I love you

I love you, I’m sorry

Hajime…

 

**Shittykawa [17:21]**

Do you remember that time when we were kids?

And I made you cry because I accidentally killed your beetle?

I promised that I would never make you sad again

Or that I would make you cry

I promised that I would only ever make you smile

Or make you annoyed at me so you wouldn’t be annoyed at anyone else

Because your pissed-off face lets me know that you still care

That you still love me enough to stick around

I promised that I would make you the happiest boy ever

**Shittykawa [17:22]**

Looks like I broke my promise

 

* * *

 

By the time Saturday came around, Iwaizumi was exhausted.

                He couldn’t sleep, or when he did, it was mixed in with waking up every hour. He had struggled endlessly to stay awake in class, and when he did manage—somewhat miraculously—his mind was on everything else but on the work he was supposed to be doing. This past week was, apparently, the time to go down memory lane: the match with Karasuno, Yahaba’s speech in the change room, the argument that night in Iwaizumi’s bedroom, the kiss that followed, Oikawa’s cold shoulder… There hadn’t been a single moment where at least one of those things wasn’t coming to life in his head, working away at making him remember every fine detail.

                But there was nothing that was on his mind more than Oikawa.

                Oikawa. Oikawa. Oikawa.

                Iwaizumi’s head was filled with him, and so was his phone.

                His inbox was full of Oikawa’s unanswered messages, for he hadn’t stopped messaging him all week. But for the first time that Saturday night, where Iwaizumi was once again at his desk attempting to do his homework, his phone was silent.

                At first, the absence of Oikawa’s constant messaging had been a blessing. No vibrations. No notifications. Just a screen empty of pleas. But then after about two hours, Iwaizumi started to feel a little worried. Did Oikawa give up? That was so unlike him. He never gave up, especially when Iwaizumi was in question.

                Iwaizumi had gotten so used to his phone lighting up with a new message over the week, gotten used to the buzzing against his thigh or through his arms when his phone vibrated against the wood of the table, that now it had gone silent… it wasn’t normal. It felt off.

                It was when it had remained silent as the afternoon turned into the evening and there was still no sign from Oikawa that Iwaizumi started to panic.

                This wasn’t like Oikawa at all. It unnerved him more than when Oikawa had ignored him.

                _Where the fuck is he?_

                Tightening his grip on his pen, Iwaizumi stared at his soundless phone. It was within arm’s reach, hiding amidst a pile of exercises he had already half-heartedly done. He willed for it to vibrate, to make some kind of noise—something, anything. He couldn’t bear the silence, not when it came to Oikawa. Iwaizumi preferred the rattling on the surface of his desk or bedside table over this.

                His fingers itched. He was tempted, oh was he tempted…

                Growling softly, he turned back to his homework. _Get him out of your head_ , he told himself harshly. _It’s probably nothing… He must have finally gotten into his head that you don’t want to talk to him._ Deep down, however, he knew something was wrong.

                About two seconds later, his phone buzzed loudly, and Iwaizumi immediately brushed the papers aside, picked it up and opened the message he had received.

 

**Shittykawa [23:28]**

Im out si d e

Ha j ime… ple a se

 

                He frowned deeply. ‘Outside?’

                Getting up from his chair, Iwaizumi went to his window and pulled it open. He poked his head out and looked down, only to see Oikawa sitting on the bottom step of the front entrance of the house. Even from up in his room, Iwaizumi could tell that something wasn’t right.

                He didn’t hesitate to rush out of his room, down the stairs and into the hall. Iwaizumi’s nerves were on edge and suddenly everything that had happened that week became static in his mind. Opening the door slowly, Iwaizumi was alarmed to see that Oikawa had given no reaction to either his sudden appearance or the sound of the door. He was slumped against the railing of the stairs, head down and forearms resting atop his knees. Iwaizumi could just make out that he had his phone in his hands, the brightness of his screen shining.

                ‘He’s not replying,’ Oikawa whispered to himself, sniffing greatly and voice far away. He put his phone away and let out a trembling breath. ‘Hajime…’

                Unable to stand and watch any longer, Iwaizumi went down a few steps and gently tapped Oikawa on the shoulder. At his touch, Oikawa turned to face him, peering up at him curiously. Looking at him properly for the first time in two weeks, Iwaizumi gasped at what he saw.

                It went without saying that Oikawa was utterly _smashed_ , which explained the odd way he had written his texts to Iwaizumi. His eyes didn’t quite meet Iwaizumi’s and his eyelids were drooping every so often. They were puffy, no doubt from crying—something he was still doing as a few tears dripped off of his chin—and bordered with dark pockets. His shirt was hanging halfway open, his hair was oily and unkempt, and on his feet were a pair of slippers instead of proper shoes.

                Iwaizumi hadn’t seen anything like it. It was like he was staring at a completely different person. This was not the Oikawa he knew.

                But at the sight of Iwaizumi before him, the small smile that crawled its way onto Oikawa’s mouth made Iwaizumi’s chest tighten.

                ‘You came…’

                Oikawa’s words came out slurred, and his movements matched his voice as he haphazardly got to his feet. He stumbled when he attempted to straighten his back, eyes boring into Iwaizumi’s as he did so. When he regained his balance, he grabbed onto Iwaizumi’s shoulders, and Iwaizumi tried not to wince at the pain that sparked where Oikawa’s fingertips dug into his skin. He could smell something stale in Oikawa’s breath, and he recognised it as something his parents would sometimes drink at dinner or for a special occasion.

                Iwaizumi gaped at him. _What have you done to yourself?_

                ‘Hajime… I was wrong…’ Oikawa whispered, and Iwaizumi found it hard to hear him from how soft his voice had gotten. ‘I’m sorry… I can’t live without you, please. I love you, please, don’t hate me anymore…’

                His words turned into unintelligible rambling, his tone wavering as he cried. Iwaizumi struggled to keep Oikawa on his feet as he sagged against him, the last of his energy seeping out of him. Not saying a word—for he really didn’t know _what_ to say—Iwaizumi slung one of Oikawa’s arms around his shoulders and proceeded to take him inside. He wrinkled his nose in distaste as the stench of the alcohol from Oikawa’s mouth became stronger in the house than it had been outside. Oikawa’s breathing was heavy and warm on Iwaizumi’s neck as they began to climb the stairs, his head lolling on Iwaizumi’s shoulders.

                It took them a solid ten or so minutes to get up the stairs. Oikawa seemed to be making no effort in moving his own body, thus Iwaizumi grappling with Oikawa’s motionless limbs in order to get him to the top. It took them a further ten to get into Iwaizumi’s room and put Oikawa into his bed. He fell with a soft, pained groan and Iwaizumi watched as he nuzzled his cheek into the pillow, hugging it close to him. Iwaizumi took that opportunity to rush downstairs, shut the front door, go back upstairs and start making Oikawa comfortable. He took off his slippers, placing them by the foot of the bed, and sighed deeply.

                Iwaizumi’s brain was working on automatic to the point where he couldn’t feel anything other than shock at what was occurring in front of him. But more than that, he would be lying if he said that he didn’t miss Oikawa. His heart hurt seeing him like this, so small and vulnerable, and there were so many unanswered questions on his tongue that he didn’t know which one to ask first.

                But now was not the time.

                Grabbing the edge of the blanket, Iwaizumi pulled it over Oikawa’s drained body, smoothing it over his shoulders. There were tears still going down and over the bridge of Oikawa’s nose, his lips in a tight line as he tried to keep the sobs down. He did it unthinkingly, but Iwaizumi brushed his thumb underneath one of his eyes, taking the collection of tears with it. Oikawa ogled him, mouth parted in surprise, and his eyes darted quickly over Iwaizumi’s features.

                Not wanting to see him cry anymore, Iwaizumi tried to smile. ‘Sleep.’

                Iwaizumi then took a spare blanket, sheet and pillow from the chest at the foot of his bed, only to get on his knees and spread the blanket out on the floor, right next to the bed. Oikawa could have his bed for the night. He needed it more than Iwaizumi. He went to turn off the lamp on his desk, cascading the room in black, before settling into his spot on the floor. Covering himself with the sheet, he heard Oikawa breathe in and the rustling of the sheets as he moved.

                There was a second’s worth of silence.

                ‘I’m sorry, Hajime,’ he choked out.

                Iwaizumi saw one of his arms fall over the edge of the bed, fingers hanging right near Iwaizumi’s head.

                He huffed. ‘Go to sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.’

                ‘Please don’t hate me.’

                Glancing up at the bed, Iwaizumi’s mind rushed with all sorts of thoughts. He didn’t _hate_ Oikawa. He could never… He just hated the way he had been treated. Besides, how could he hate Oikawa when he was opening himself up like this? How could hate his childhood friend?

                Iwaizumi thought he could never hate him… even if he did the most heinous acts. Hate was not an emotion Iwaizumi could feel for Oikawa as a person.

                His eyes landed on Oikawa’s hand. Without a moment’s hesitation, Iwaizumi took it and rubbed circles on the back of it. He felt the tendons relax under the pad of his thumb and Oikawa’s long fingers curled around Iwaizumi’s, squeezing tightly. That was reassurance enough.

                ‘Goodnight, Tooru,’ Iwaizumi whispered, and he turned on his side, not letting go of Oikawa’s hand.

 

* * *

 

Sitting on the edge of his bed, Iwaizumi sighed heavily.

                It was early in the morning—rather early for him to be awake on a Sunday—but he couldn’t sleep. His body at this point had gotten used to restless nights, but that didn’t stop Iwaizumi from feeling drained to the core. His mind just wouldn’t stop, for it swarmed with so many thoughts that they, once again, had ruined any chances of having a peaceful slumber. So instead, Iwaizumi found himself simply looking at Oikawa’s sleeping face and furrowed brow.

                Compared to the state he had been in last night, Oikawa’s expression was serene and tear-free. Iwaizumi was still in shock over finding him drunk, and guilt washed over him at that. He knew that the cold shoulder he had displayed that week had done this to Oikawa. Iwaizumi cursed himself, for he should have known not do that, because Oikawa had always been a sensitive one… He knew that better than anyone.

                Iwaizumi’s fingers had absentmindedly found themselves in Oikawa’s hair, and they hadn’t moved away from it in the time he had been awake. Despite its oily condition, Iwaizumi’s smoothed the lighter hair from the rest of Oikawa’s face, digits disappearing into the strands. His thumb then wandered down to his cheekbone, the pad of it tracing the strong line. He knew every crevice of Oikawa’s features, but he had always marvelled at his cheekbones—strong, yet so, undeniably beautiful. The feelings were no different then.

                For the first time in a very long while, Iwaizumi took note of their differences in appearance. He didn’t think much of it as a child, for he had always thought that one day, when the colours came, he would see the differences then. His hand was stockier than Oikawa’s overall slenderness, large against Oikawa’s cheek. He took note of how much darker his skin seemed to be compared to Oikawa’s, ogling at the stark contrast between his thumb and Oikawa’s cheek. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed it before.

                Iwaizumi found himself wondering what else was different between them. Maybe he could get Oikawa to tell him their colours and how they differed from each other.

                But his thoughts turned to the past two weeks and he licked his lips nervously. He couldn’t believe that he and Oikawa had acted so childishly towards one another. They had hurt each other pretty badly, and at that, Iwaizumi swallowed a growing lump in his throat.

                As children, the pair had always had friendly banter; they had argued over stupid things, but they made up pretty quickly. Iwaizumi was always there to tell Oikawa off for being idiotic, and Oikawa would tell him off in return for being a party pooper. Their fights had never resulted in, however, them insulting or hurting each other to the point where they isolated themselves, or risked ruining their friendship forever.

                That alone shook Iwaizumi to the core. Their friendship was something they prided in, and Oikawa often told anyone who listened that Iwaizumi was his rock and moral compass in life. But Iwaizumi knew that it was the same the other way around, because Oikawa was _his_ rock and moral compass in return.

                He sighed. _What happened to us?_ His fingers played with a few locks of Oikawa’s hair, twirling them around his tips. _How did we get like this?_

                He didn’t get to dwell on the thought for much longer as Oikawa started stirring. Iwaizumi didn’t have time to remove his fingers from his hair as Oikawa’s eyes fluttered open, glazed over with sleep as they settled on Iwaizumi’s face. They stared at each other, completely frozen.

                They stayed still for a few moments until Iwaizumi moved to stand up— _water and meds, that’s what he needs… probably has a huge headache_ —but was stopped immediately when Oikawa grabbed his wrist. He refused to let go despite Iwaizumi’s glaring at him, and they battled silently for a few seconds before Iwaizumi returned to his spot in resignation. He aimed a raised eyebrow Oikawa’s way, choosing to remain quiet.

                Oikawa cleared his throat, eyes falling onto the blanket. His voice was soft as he spoke, hesitant in manner, ‘I want to… I want to explain, Hajime. You know… why I did what I did.’

                ‘You _just_ woke up,’ Iwaizumi told him incredulously, ‘and you want to talk? Don’t you… I dunno, want a moment to come to your senses?’

                Laughing gently, Oikawa slowly shook his head. ‘No, I’m fine. Please, I’ve waited all week for this. Will you let me tell you?’

                He gazed up at Iwaizumi with such large eyes that he couldn’t say no. He said nothing, just inclined his head in a single nod. He really didn’t know what else he could possibly say, so for the first time in his life, Iwaizumi listened silently as Oikawa—who was in the process of sitting up and grimacing in pain, rubbing his forehead with his fingers—opened his mouth and began to speak. He wouldn’t interrupt this time. He wouldn’t scold him.

                Yet.

                Oikawa hesitated, closing his mouth and worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Then he huffed and said carefully, as if he was chewing the words before letting them out, ‘After we… you know… _kissed_ … I was devastated when you still didn’t see colour. I wanted to, in a way, forget it ever happened. I didn’t want to accept that there was such a thing as a one-sided soulmateship, but that’s what it seemed to be with us.

                ‘I wanted to bury my feelings, you know. When it started storming on the way home—and forgive me for this cliché—I thought, “Great, the rain’s gonna wash away my feelings for Iwa-chan.” But even when I got a fever that night, the feelings hadn’t been washed away. If anything, they grew stronger, which is far from what I wanted at first.’

                Iwaizumi stared at him. _Did he seriously think all that?_

                Oikawa continued.

                ‘Then you started messaging and calling. I thought that you were only doing it to check up on me, to see where I had gone and why I wasn’t at school. Do you know hard it was to not… pick up that phone and talk to you? To spend my time in bed messaging you and getting my mind off things?’ He sighed deeply and shut his eyes, leaning his head against the wall. ‘But I was determined to get rid of my feelings for good. I had to accept that you will never be my soulmate, that we never… you know… would be a _thing_. I thought that if I ignored you, if I got you out of my life for a little bit, learnt to survive on my own, then everything would be okay. I didn’t want my feelings to “rise up”, so to speak.

                ‘But then on that Friday, when Makki and Mattsun got involved, I knew I had to act as if everything was okay. I thought, “Okay, I’ll just pretend everything is okay, and that Iwa-chan doesn’t have anything to worry about because I’m fine. Perfectly fine.” Then… then you exploded.’

                Oikawa sucked in a shuddering breath and Iwaizumi wondered if he was going to start crying again. His voice shook as he went on to say, ‘You being angry with me… that was so scary, Hajime. I knew that when you told me to go to hell that I had fucked up. I had fucked up _so badly._ While I wanted to stop having romantic feelings for you, the last thing I wanted was to remove you from my life _completely_. When you got angry, Hajime, something in me died. And then when you didn’t answer my calls and messages, like I did to you, I realised how awful I had been treating you like that, because I felt like I was going to die. Overdramatic, I know… but it’s the truth.’

                Their eyes met as Oikawa’s lids lifted, and Iwaizumi swallowed audibly at the utter _anguish_ in them. Broken, sorrowful eyes… Iwaizumi’s stomach formed into a rock. God… he felt awful for treating Oikawa the way he had, but then again, Oikawa had done the same to him.

_What a mess._

                Oikawa’s hand inched towards Iwaizumi’s, his fingertips grazing the skin. ‘I’m so sorry, Hajime… I’m sorry for brushing aside your feelings… I’m so sorry for everything…’

                Iwaizumi merely sighed. Oikawa was being so sincere that it was impossible not to take his apology seriously. He could see where Oikawa was coming from, because he felt the same… but his heart still twanged with hurt at Oikawa having not been open with him at the start.

 _This all could have been avoided if you just_ talked _to me. Fool…_

                ‘You really hurt me, Tooru,’ was what he said out loud, voice soft and on the verge of cracking.

                ‘I know… but that wasn’t the intention, I promise.’ Oikawa laughed softly, though the humour did not reach his face. ‘Goes to show how stupid I am, huh?’

                ‘You’re not stupid,’ Iwaizumi told him immediately, sternly. ‘You just don’t use your head.’ He sighed. ‘To be fair, though, I’m not totally blameless either. I should have told you what was going on with me from the first moment it all happened. I exploded at you that night we kissed because I was jealous… I couldn’t bear the thought of you being happy with someone else and being replaced when I couldn’t see anyone being my soulmate other than you. I’m sorry…’

                ‘I forgive you, Hajime.’ Oikawa grasped his hand fully then, squeezing it tightly. He peeked up at Iwaizumi, almost childish in the way a sheepish expression crossed over his features. ‘Do you forgive me?’

                ‘I… yes.’

                It came out so easily that Iwaizumi didn’t have to ponder upon it. They both had been in the wrong, that was true, but Iwaizumi couldn’t stay angry at Oikawa. He was tired of fighting, of keeping up appearances, and he missed him.

                His mouth turned down at the corners as his eyes settled on the carpet. ‘God… we’re such idiots.’

                Oikawa laughed breathlessly, the very action withered. There was a slight pause before he asked, ‘What was it you wanted to tell me? You know… when I was ignoring you?’

                His hand was _so_ warm… It was all Iwaizumi could really focus on, could really perceive as reality. Everything else that had happened up until then between them was surreal, like a dream, a series of mirages and snapshots of just… complete foolishness. But at Oikawa’s question, he came back to reality and his heart stopped.

 _It’s time. This_ is _what you wanted, right?_

                So why was it proving so hard to say?

                ‘Well…’ Iwaizumi cleared his throat, choosing to ignore the flush that was rising up his neck. He fumbled around with his words, tongue heavy in his mouth and his mind unable to help him string two sentences together. He then hissed out, ‘Fuck… I suck at this, sorry.’

                ‘Take your time.’

                Iwaizumi lifted his gaze from the carpet to Oikawa’s attentive face. _Take your time._ But he didn’t want to take his time. He knew what was meant by the phrase, but he was stubborn and wanted to get everything out in the open as soon as possible. He, too, had been waiting to say this. He had waited two whole weeks for it.

                ‘I don’t want to.’ He sucked in a deep breath, eyes trailing over Oikawa’s long fingers, and let the words pour out of him. ‘The morning after our argument, Mum wanted to know what happened. I told her everything that had been happening to us over the past couple of months and she got suspicious. She suggested we go to the doctor after I explained everything.’

                ‘A doctor?’

                ‘Yeah… I told Mum about the feelings I’ve been having on and off since I was a kid. It happened only a few times, but they were enough to make me feel… ugh… what’s the word… right? Comfortable? Nice? I dunno how to explain it.’ He let out a slow breath. ‘But all you need to know is that whenever I felt like this, it was either when I heard the word soulmate for the first time or… a couple of times when I was with you.’

 _Goddammit, why is this so hard to explain?_ His other hand fisted against his thigh, and he still didn’t look Oikawa in the eye. Oikawa, however, squeezed his hand once, a sign that he was still listening, still wanting to hear everything.

                ‘So, um… Mum thought that these feelings meant something. She was also curious about how you can see colour and I can’t, then told me something I never knew. She said something about how my great-grandfather had it, but my dad and grandfather don’t, and how _I_ could have it because sometimes it skips a few generations. So when we went to the doctor, he told us everything. It’s a rare thing to happen, but it’s possible… and screw me over, I am one of the people who have it, even more so because it’s in the family.’

                Iwaizumi chose to look into Oikawa’s eyes then. He saw them narrow in confusion, and he watched as he licked his lips and asked, ‘Have what, Hajime?’

                He gulped. _Here it goes._ Iwaizumi leant towards Oikawa’s ear and whispered the answer into it. When he pulled back, he saw Oikawa’s expression slacken and his eyes widen. He opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off when Iwaizumi resumed talking.

                ‘But that doesn’t… that doesn’t change things, Tooru.’

                Puzzlement overtook Oikawa’s features. ‘W-What do you mean by that?’

                ‘What I mean is that we’re still soulmates.’

                When all Oikawa did was gape at him blankly, Iwaizumi told him exactly what the doctor had told him. He said how when someone found their soulmate, they experienced two things: a burst of colour and a burst of a very powerful feeling inside. Sometimes they happened at the same time, sometimes at different times. Sometimes the colours came first and the feeling later. Sometimes the feeling came first and the colours later. Everyone experienced it differently. Iwaizumi told him that they had been soulmates from the moment they had met as children, for Iwaizumi had felt that very powerful feeling erupt in him from the moment they met.

                Iwaizumi talked and talked. He held nothing back. He told Oikawa how overwhelmed he had felt that day in the gymnasium, how jittery he had felt afterwards, all for the rest of their first year, throughout their second and at the beginning of their third. He told him how he came to understand more and more, every day for all that time, that he couldn’t be without Oikawa, because Oikawa was his in every regard. He told him that while he didn’t experience that burst of colour, he definitely, undoubtedly, experienced that feeling.

                And his feelings for Oikawa hadn’t gone away since.

                By the time he was done, Oikawa could only gawk at him. Iwaizumi worried his lower lip between his teeth and sighed. He felt terribly exposed, but this… this was right. This was how things were meant to be.

                ‘You felt it too, right?’ Iwaizumi looked Oikawa dead in the eye, not moving a centimetre. ‘You know… at school, in the gym… when I was helping you get up when you injured your knee… That’s when you saw the colours, right?’

                When Oikawa’s eyes spilled over with tears, Iwaizumi knew that he had understood, that he knew _exactly_ what he was talking about. Oikawa let out something between a laugh and a sob, and tackled Iwaizumi into a hug. He kissed absolutely all over Iwaizumi’s face, his tone awed as he repeated, ‘I can’t believe it… Hajime, this is great!’

                But Oikawa was shortly pushed away as the stench of last night’s drink became stagnant under Iwaizumi’s nose. He wrinkled it in distaste and sent Oikawa a glower.

                ‘Go and brush your teeth, you reek!’ Iwaizumi pulled Oikawa out of his bed and pushed him in the direction of the bathroom. ‘Take a shower while you’re at it, Jesus! I’ll get you some clothes—and you and I need to seriously talk about what happened last night. If I find you drunk like that again, I _will_ kick your arse, Shittykawa!’

                Oikawa could only laugh, holding his hands up in surrender as Iwaizumi moved him out of the bedroom into the hallway. When they reached the bathroom, Oikawa turned around and smiled at Iwaizumi, blowing him a kiss before going in to, as per Iwaizumi’s orders, take a shower and brush his teeth (with the toothbrush that had practically become a part of the Iwaizumi household over the years).

                The smile was the first real one Iwaizumi had seen in a good ten years. He had one form on his mouth as well, one that would be kissed all afternoon. As he turned to fix his room up and get some clean clothes for Oikawa, he spotted his mother coming up the stairs.

                She gave him a furtive look and asked, ‘Was that Tooru-kun I just heard?’

                Iwaizumi nodded. ‘Yeah, it was.’

                ‘You’ve sorted things out, then?’

                Not bothering to wipe the smile off his face, he replied with, ‘Yep. Everything’s just as it should be.’

 

* * *

 

**[Makki_Tana is online]**

**Makki_Tana**

have you guys stopped arguing yet?

can we stop fighting now?

**[Issei_Mattsun is online]**

**Issei_Mattsun**

can we go on a ramen run like we used to?

can we have you guys be bffs again please?

**Makki_Tana**

preferably without the tension thanks

**[Oi-Oi-Oikawa is online]**

**[Oi-Oi-Oikawa sent a photo]**

**Issei_Mattsun**

what’s this?

**Makki_Tana**

is that

is that Iwaizumi’s bedroom?

**Issei_Mattsun**

omfg it is

**Oi-Oi-Oikawa**

See? We’re not fighting anymore~

We’ve sorted things out

It was a huge misunderstanding

**[Iwaizumi Hajime is online]**

**Iwaizumi Hajime**

I would have said something but…

well

shit got complicated

**Issei_Mattsun**

well it’s nice to see you happy again

I was getting sick of all the arguing

**Makki_Tana**

ugh look at you both

it’s like you never fought

but Oikawa why the fuck do you look like shit?

**Oi-Oi-Oikawa**

Makki~ You’re a shithead~

I look beautiful~

**Iwaizumi Hajime**

he’s hungover

**Oi-Oi-Oikawa**

IWA-CHAN

YOU PROMISED NOT TO TELL

**Makki_Tana**

euirgiuerhgiuerhg

I’m fucking crying

Oikawa I thought you were more responsible than this

**Issei_Mattsun**

shame on you

**Oi-Oi-Oikawa**

well /you/ try being ignored by your soulmate for a week

**Makki_Tana**

what

**Issei_Mattsun**

…

oH

I KNEW IT

I TOLD YOU MAKKI

YOU OWE ME

**Makki_Tana**

son of a bitch

**Iwaizumi Hajime**

um

what are you talking about?

**Issei_Mattsun**

Oikawa never told us who his soulmate was

just that he had problems with them

AND I TOLD YOU MAKKI

I TOLD YOU IT WAS IWAIZUMI

**Makki_Tana**

sigh

why did I dare think otherwise?

ofc it’s fucking Iwa

fml

but… why the hangover?

**Oi-Oi-Oikawa**

It’s complicated

Please don’t tell anyone

I need to keep up my image of being a good student!

**Issei_Mattsun**

lol “good student”

**Makki_Tana**

only if you buy us ramen tomorrow after school

**Oi-Oi-Oikawa**

You suck

**Iwaizumi Hajime**

so do you

;)

**Oi-Oi-Oikawa**

Iwa-chan!

You’re so bad!~

**Makki_Tana**

EW

**Issei_Mattsun**

I never thought i’d see the day where Iwaizumi makes sex jokes

what a day to be alive

**Oi-Oi-Oikawa**

Iwa-chan

Who taught you to speak like that?

I must have words

**Iwaizumi Hajime**

that’s none of your concern

you love me regardless

**Oi-Oi-Oikawa**

Yeah… I do

EEEEEEEEEEE

That feels so good to say~

**Makki_Tana**

get a roooooooooooooom

**Issei_Mattsun**

spare us

pls

**Oi-Oi-Oikawa**

We have a room

**Iwaizumi Hajime**

we’re in said room

**Makki_Tana**

I’m out of here

**Issei_Mattsun**

why

**Iwaizumi Hajime**

hey

Tooru

what are you waiting for?

I’m right here

kiss me already

**Oi-Oi-Oikawa**

Oh I’m coming, darling Hajime

I’m coming for you right now

I’m just

Waiting for Makki and Mattsun to start screaming >:D

**Makki_Tana**

YOU GUYS ARE GROSS

GET OUT OF MY SIGHT

**Issei_Mattsun**

NOT EVEN WE’RE THIS BAD AROUND YOU

FUCK YOU

**Oi-Oi-Oikawa**

Hm? What was that?

Did you hear something, Iwa-chan?

**Iwaizumi Hajime**

nah

just a couple of screaming kids

**Oi-Oi-Oikawa**

Oh is that what it is?

**Makki_Tana**

I HATE you BOTH

**Issei_Mattsun**

you are /so/ going to pay for this

**Oi-Oi-Oikawa**

Ah would you look at the time?

Sorry boys

I have some /business/ to attend to with my boyfriend

Talk to you later~~

**[Oi-Oi-Oikawa is offline]**

**Iwaizumi Hajime**

catch you guys later

I’m being conquered

**[Iwaizumi Hajime is offline]**

**Makki_Tana**

…

I pray for them

jfc

this is /not/ how I wanted to spend my Sunday morning

**Issei_Mattsun**

I need to cleanse

rest in pieces you gross fuckers

 

* * *

 

(In Iwaizumi’s bedroom, the two boys laughed so much they were snorting and wiping away tears from their eyes. Their friends’ reactions were just too good—fucking priceless. But Hanamaki and Matsukawa were pushed into the backs of their minds when Oikawa leant forward, meeting a pink face and bright, very green eyes He captured Iwaizumi’s lips with his own, kissing each corner and crevice of his smiling mouth.)


End file.
